Stealing Sunshine
by J.Rease
Summary: The real reason Santana Lopez got that boob job.  Mature themes.  Girl!Peen/Intersexuality.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Stealing Sunshine

**Author: **JRease

**Summary: **The reason Santana Lopez really got her boob job. Mature themes.

**Rating: NC-17/M **

**Warnings: **Descriptions of vulgarity, anatomical associations and awkward situations.

**Notes: **I know nothing about gender reassignment or intersex individuals. No offense to anyone but the idea simply popped into my head and wouldn't stop bothering me. Looking at at least six chapters… Some spoilers.

" _**Breast augmentation surgery; it's our most viable option. Your hormone dosage is finally at a stable level; and even still it's not providing enough estrogen for you to develop normally. Adding more to your system now will only increase the amount of testosterone combating it. That will further compromise your current condition." **_

She felt her eyes tearing, a wet heat brimming on the edges of her smoky lids. She was trying her best not to cry. She hated the way her face frowned when she cried so she sniffed the pesky emotion back in, trying to compose herself before her parents tried to _**comfort**_ her. They sat on either side of her, intently concentrating on what her doctor was saying.

"We were prepared for this, Ana." Her father said, rubbing circles into her empty open palm.

"You're 16 now." Her mother added.

The doctor took a deep breath, continuing in a somber tone.

"_**With the onslaught of puberty, we were hoping the natural development would stifle the other physical anomaly. However, it's evident that both organs are actually growing simultaneously. Consequently, we want to thwart any possibilities that your breasts may not develop as they should. We cannot move forward with the gender assignment surgery until we understand all the risks involved." **_

He inhaled again, repositioning his thin wire-framed glasses higher on the bridge of his slender nose.

"_**In your case, there is little chance that we can reconstruct a… aesthetic genital area without compromising sensation or reproduction. Ultimately you will be sacrificing positive sexual stimulation for a 'traditional'," **_he air quoted the word_**, "package. While you are not barren, you may experience copious obstacles if you decide to conceive; including miscarriage and atopic pregnancies. The surgery is a risk but it is a logical option. You need to be certain about your choice as the procedure is irreversible in nature. We also have to reassess the functionality of your…penis." **_

She cringed. It was a part of her, she couldn't deny it. She remembered the first time she'd explored the area, finding first flaccid, phallic skin where—according to her Daddy's anatomy charts, a little button should be. A small bundle of nerves had somehow morbidly transformed into a somewhat slender, slightly protruding ... **thing**. She quickly bypassed it, finding under the offensive skin the **normal** things a little girl should have. She was only seven. Still, as she grew, it did too, and she could no longer ignore the formalities that came with such a package.

"_**Your case is extremely rare, Santana. While your appearance is dominantly feminine and your reproductive organs are prominently female the …penis**_," She winced_**. "attached at the clitoral hood, is not. At this rate, the testosterone the organ is pumping through your body is inhibiting the normal physical changes a girl your age should have already finished. We can wait to see if the organ has enough nerve endings to construct a functioning clitoris, however, if seminal glands or testicles begin to develop it will ultimately eliminate some a lot of the options that will be available. The urinary tract, since it is also located in the penis," **_She flinched._** "…may need to be rearranged to a more convenient location—" **_

"What do you mean, rearranged? I don't want to pee upside down Dr. J. Be straight with me. Her arms were crossed; her defiance plastered on her face stubbornly.

"_**Nothing serious. Some of the tissue that would need to be severed could very well damage the underlying tissue. We will tread safely, however, the repercussions of gender assignment are still looming. Mr. and Mrs. Lopez, I believe Santana and I have some personal things to discuss. As her intersex physician and counselor, I have to guarantee that Santana fully understands the severity of the procedure; and so without pressure or influence. I'll send Santana out with her discharge papers." **_

Her parents filed out of the room, her father glancing back before securely shutting the door behind him.

" _**Okay. Santana, after your physical today, we noticed that your penis is growing at a delayed, but semi-normal rate. Consequently, the erectile tissue that surrounds it seems to be semi-functioning. If so, you will begin to experience certain parts of puberty that has been delayed due to your annual hormone shots. This same erectile tissue, primarily the sensitive skin on the tip of your penis, has become a practical replacement for clitoral nerve endings. If we can assure that the organ works properly, we can assist in giving you a working vaginal hood and clitoris. However, we will have to halt the hormone shots and see if we can gain use from the penis-"  
**_

"Stop calling it that! It's skin. That's all it is and all it has ever been. Just cut it off!"

"_**Calm down Santana. Not letting the development of the penis occur can cause complications in mental health after the surgery. If we sever the penile tissue and stop the hormones, you could very well identify as a masculine individual—" **_

She cut him off, grinding her shoe into the ground as she leaned forward.

"I am a **GIRL**, Dr. Jennings. I **KNOW** for a fact that I am a girl, and that's **ALL** I want to be."

He pushed his chair away from his desk, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at her sympathetically.

"_**Santana. You have to cope with the fact that you are an intersexed individual. The sooner you accept it, the quicker we can determine the correct mode of action." She sat back in her seat, her arms still crossed defensively over her chest. "Now, I have a few questions for you."**_ She rolled her eyes. _**"Have you experienced any feeling in the penis? Have you felt any erection lasting for more than a few moments?"**_ She shook her head 'No' waiting for him to continue.

"_**Has there been any pre-ejaculatory fluid? "**_

"No."

"_**Any seminal fluid?"**_

"None whatsoever."

"_**Any self stimulation? "**_

"Ew. No."

"_**Evidence of nocturnal emissions?"**_

"Nope."

"_**Okay, when do you feel anything?" **_

"When I use the bathroom. When I wash it, it feels like I'm pulling extra skin."

"_**No other times?"**_

"No."

"_**Okay." **_

He scribbled things down on her chart, closing it with an exasperated sigh.

"_**Santana I understand that this is one of the biggest decisions you will make in your lifetime. All I am asking is that you have the patience to undergo the necessary precautions before going under the knife. Finding out later that you could have lead a healthy, normal sexual life will be a slap to the face. We can schedule the augmentation for late June, and we can begin to discuss the gender assignment surgery after we have affectively weaned you off your hormones. Do you know what…size you were looking into?" **_

"Nothing too noticeable. And nothing blatantly obvious."

_**"I'll assume that's a small C cup?" **_She shook her head yes, resting her temple on her fisted knuckles._** "After today we will cut all of you hormone shots. As you have more estrogen levels normally, it shouldn't affect your appearance or bodily functions. Your period may be sporadic for a while, it should hopefully stabilize after your levels even out." **_

"How am I going to hide a boner in my cheerios spanx? It's already getting too long to tuck!"

"_**I can refer you to a few specially padded underwear sites. And besides, you may not be able to participate in cheering for a while; any blunt force to your implants and it may result in a saline dri—" **_

"Ugh. It's whatever, I'm probably going to get kicked off when I grow a beard."

"_**Santana…it could have been worse. Your parents could have prematurely taken your decision away. You are getting a say in who you will become. Be happy that they didn't close you up and give you a football. I'll see you next month." **_

He handed her a set of papers, the yellow copy, and she huffed and stomped toward the lobby to meet her anxiously awaiting parents. She handed her father the papers, noting how he skimmed them and nodded, apparently understanding the loopy prescription writing, and folding them in his pocket. She walked to the car with the same pout she'd left Dr. Jennings with, arms crossed all too characteristically across her chest. She sat in the back seat, enjoying the silence of the car and thinking.

She thought back to what the doctor said. She could remember her parents telling her she was different when she was still being homeschooled. There was one desk propped up in her garage, her mother, Helen, at the front with her pointer, trying to explain to her the meaning of her anatomy.

"Boys have penises…Girls have?"

"Vaginas!" She thought eagerly. She knew that answer.

"Santana has…?"

"…Both."

"Santana is a?"

Quiet.

She didn't grasp it until later. Her and Brittany, her next door neighbor at the time, had played a game of '_Show me yours'_ in her bedroom. She saw hers, frowning her face up when the blonde ask to see in return, saying that she didn't want to show her because she wouldn't believe it. Miraculously, Britt still didn't know. Sure they'd ventured into homosexual activities, but Santana made sure she was always in control, always the aggressor, always initiating anything between them. Britt never minded or asked questions. The boys, she's dated, however were harder to fend off.

She'd made out with Noah Puckerman in eighth grade. It was the first time she'd ever felt an erection, and when she wouldn't touch it again, he'd said that he was going to tell everyone she was a prude and no one would be her friend. And she ventured into oral sex, pleasing both him and her reputation. She'd often tell guys they could tell everyone that they went all the way, and thwart off any unwanted activity. She as still a virgin, deciding to spread gossip since it usually spread faster than any absurd truths she'd been hiding. Her promiscuous nature and blatant flirtation usually repulsed most of her peers, but it effectively kept people prying too much into her life away. She didn't know how long she could hold on, though.

"Ana…"

"No, Daddy, I don't want to hear it. I'm tired of the run around. Why couldn't you just snip it off like any normal parents would do?"

"Santana," her mother interjected, "had we snipped anything you would have wound up a Santo Jr."

She wasn't laughing.

"Everyone's going to find out. I'm going to get hard during biology and people are going to wonder why my skirts standing up. "

"No one will know, Ana, it's high school. Stop being so overdramatic. And besides, the only people who know about your condition is Emma and Principle Figgins. They breach confidentiality and they lose their jobs. You'll be fine."

"I'm shocked you hid it from that coach of yours… that's an accomplishment in itself. She probably wouldn't be so hard on you if she knew."

"I don't mind someone treating me normally for a while, even if it's mean…"

She pouted the rest of the way home, wondering how she was going to get through her junior year. She didn't calm down until her father handed over his credit card and advised her to shop for new clothes.

A/N: All will be explained. Review!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This chapter is just a glimpse. Santana finally gets to interact with other characters next chapter.

Warnings: Extremely descriptive sexual situations.

"Do you think they have room service in this place 'cause I want a burger…"

"I thought I'd feel different after."

"Yea, well, I've noticed that it takes twenty or so times before the feeling of accomplishment really kicks in. They don't have a menu so you're going to have to take me to a burger joint. How do you feel?"

"I don't feel anything… cause it didn't _**mean**_ anything."

She remembers that week. It was the week Sue convinced the squad to date younger guys. It was Madonna week. It was one of the toughest weeks she'd ever had. Her therapist had convinced her to evaluate her sexuality. She pulled out her folder, telling her again all of the problems that could arise mentally after the assignment surgery. She'd heard it thousands of times. She was getting tired of people telling her that she should date boys and do all the things other girls her ages were doing. She couldn't. She always had nightmares about a boy reaching down her pants and finding the not so normal appendage. Sometimes she'd dream about entire relationships with guys she had crushes on. She'd dream about their dates, and their happy, sappy relationship stuff. And at the end of every one of those dreams, she would pull down her pants, and they'd laugh at her. They'd point and giggle and promise to tell the entire school. She didn't even want to date; the heartbreak wasn't nearly as scary as the humiliation of everyone finding out.

She had urges. She wanted to do what Brittany was doing. She wanted to kiss, and touch, and explore. Her therapist knew all of her fears. She knew all of the times she'd initiated oral sex with Brittany. And each time Marian would turn to her and look her straight in the eye while she asked her that infamous question:

"_**Do you think you're a lesbian or do you think you just like girls?" **_

And each time she would roll her eyes at her, brushing off her question and moving on to some random conquest Brittany had told her about, and how she was living vicariously through her best friend.

She was tired of people being so…skeptical. All she knew is that she wanted to be a girl. She loved makeup and romantic movies; she liked sleepovers with Britt and painting fingernails, she liked buying sundresses and baking cookies. She liked boys… and she liked girls. It had nothing to do with what was between her legs. She was tired of people assuming that because she had multiple sexual organs, she also had mentally confused sexual preferences.

Even though she felt that way, she still _**needed**_ to know. She needed to find out what the big deal was about sex. When Brittany pointed out Finn and his naïve innocence, she thought maybe, in dark light and if she was on all fours, he wouldn't notice her…penis. She thought she could pull it up while he fumbled behind her and maybe he wouldn't notice. Hell, Finn probably didn't even know what a clit was…let alone where to find it. She walked up to him, her heart raging in the confines of her ribcage, and she propositioned him. Usually, her blatant and vulgar attempts at flirting went unanswered. Who would want to sleep with the supposed school slut? But when he walked up to her and told her he was in, all she could do was worry.

She went shopping right after school, trying to find something sexy enough to detract from her not being nude in front of him. Her breasts were small, not completely flat, but nothing like the plump or perky girls she'd experienced in the Cheerios locker room. And her eyes fell on the pink negligee. It was long enough to cover her mid-thigh, pretty enough to still be…sexy. She paid for it, and called in her reservation using the credit card her father set up for her in case of emergencies (she'd think of an excuse for her shady purchase later). They'd met there. When he finally came out of the bathroom she tried her best to be the Santana all of McKinely High had come to respect (and hate). And she swung her hips and whipped her hair in her best imitation of a fiery vixen.

She straddled him, and kissed him and touched him. He kept his shirt on. And she remembered pulling his pants down and reaching into his boxers. She unsheathed him and she kissed his semi-erect penis, looking directly into his eyes as she had practiced so many other times with other boys. He responded, closing his eyes and tightening his abdomen. She rolled the condom down then, using her mouth. The only skill she knew meticulously had brought him brimming to the edge of his peak. She pulled away from him, noticing only when she began rolling her cotton panties down her thighs that he'd prematurely ejaculated in his condom.

He gets up, running into the bathroom, she could hear him swearing silently, a fast wet slapping replacing the silence soon after. She got under the blankets then, pulling her underwear back up, She was shivering, shuddering so violently that she had to grip both her arms to still her trembling body. After a few deep, steady breaths she laughed, shaking her head in the absurdity of the entire night. She straightened her face when she heard him turn off the sink. He came outside, unsuccessful in his attempts to revive himself. He walked over to her, sitting next to her before pulling the sheet back up and joining her under it.

"Do you think they have room service in this place 'cause I want a burger…"

She couldn't look him in the face, sucking on her tongue as not to laugh at him blatantly. What was she thinking!

"I thought I'd feel different after."

She played with the things in the drawer beside her. He was so dense to think that he'd lost his virginity. Apparently he'd never had _**any**_ action, thinking that first sexual experience he had was enough to abate his hormonal libido. She wasn't going to shatter his ignorance, she wasn't ready for this. And she wasn't going to be able to handle the repercussions of the act. Not until she accepted herself, her body, her issues.

"Yea, well, I've noticed that it takes twenty or so times before the feeling of accomplishment really kicks in."

Or so Brittany had told her. She suddenly felt naked, bare in front of the teenage boy next to her. So open and vulnerable to rejection.

" They don't have a menu so you're going to have to take me to a burger joint."

She needed to get out of this room.

"How do you feel?"

She could remember turning to him. Staring at him so hard; daring him to answer.

"I don't feel anything… cause it didn't _**mean**_ anything

And she splintered into a billion pieces. Getting up and turning away from him, she found her jeans, pulling and buttoning them as she brushed stray locks behind her ears. She found her hoodie, pulling it over the gossamer negligee and slipping into her shoes. She grabbed her bag by the door and left him without looking back. She got into her car, pulled out of the lot and cried the entire ride to Brittany's house. And she could remember what it felt like to be such a girl at that moment. Remembering it now seemed so vivid, so authentic so….

"Santana….My Ana…Ana…Anaaaaa."

The singsong voice lulled her from her memories. She could hear her father, trying to coax her from her dreams.

"She's up, Helen!"

Her mother's beige and tan hand pushed into her line of vision, wiping sweaty hair off her forehead. She felt like she was being held down by an anvil; the bandages wrapped around her chest tucking under her armpits and tangling around her abdomen. She couldn't breathe through the tight weight grinding on her ribcage. She didn't want to sit up, and her throat felt like they'd pulled a strainer from her stomach through her esophagus.

"How do they look?"

She croaked, flinching slightly from the sound of her ragged voice.

"They look…normal." Her mother said from somewhere on the other side of her bed, messing with bags hung on hooks.

"Perfect."

She said, before slipping back into a chemically induced sleep.

The first time she got an erection was on the last Saturday before her next doctor's appointment. She got up, running awkwardly to her armoire and grabbing her cell phone. She listened to it ring three times, a cheery voice answering.

"Dr. Jennings office."

"Tell Dr. J. I have a problem."

End of chapter 2.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Shoutout to MAX for all the helpful info and just being great in general. This chapter is short but hopefully you guys are satisfied until I finish typing up the next chapter. I leave some  
things somewhat vague because they will be explained later—I am keeping with the timeline of the show unless anything otherwise noted. Please, read and review. [SRSRSR=line breaks]

***Resubmitted to fix editing issues. My word processor won't let me format it past what it is now, next chapter will be in better condition once I fix this glitch. Thanks. ***

"I've talked with Dr. Jennings. Have a seat, Santana."

She remained standing, arms crossed tightly over her heaving chest, staring annoyingly at her therapist.

"Dr. J. said as soon as it works, I could schedule the surgery. Well, it works. What's the hold up?"

She was tapping her foot furiously.

"There is protocol to follow, Santana- now have a seat."

Marian waved her hand at the empty seat in front of her desk, waiting patiently for the teenager to sit down. She did, finally, the therapist shuffling papers around as she began talking.

"Santana, Dr. Jennings is currently at a conference. He will be back in time for the appointment you have scheduled for next week. That being said, we need to discuss a few options before we

move on in setting up your surgery. Now, Dr. Jennings has explained to you the dangers of the surgery, as well as recovery. The other option that you have, however, is what we will be discussing

today. Before I get into the details, I have to inform you that proper procedure calls for three months of extensive therapy before the gender assignment surgery, we need to know

that you are mentally stable to handle the transition as well as post-surgery therapy to know that you are coping well with the change. Consequently, you will have to comply to these terms and

undergo evaluation at the end of therapy in order to be approved to undergo surgery. Do you understand?"

She sat there, shaking her head furiously from left to right, her lips pursed and grimaced; her jaw clenching and releasing.

"This is bullshit. Why wasn't I told about this after the augmentation?"

"Because we have to make sure you're coping well with all the changes that are being implemented. Please, Santana, you have to be patient."

She rolled her teary eyes, biting her bottom lip and sniffing in the little emotion that peaked to her exterior.

"Fine. Whatever. What now?"

"Well, we need to talk about the other option you have before moving on with therapy. There is an option that would be easier than assignment surgery. Keeping both organs is a very feasible-"

"What! No way. That's not an option."

"Santana, you would be able to maintain the function of your sex drive. Your hormone levels would balance over time and you wouldn't have to worry about any complications from surgery.

I think it's something you should consider."

"Look, Marian. I am not keeping this thing. I'm good. I'm tired of worrying if my voice is going to start cracking when I sing. I got into a fist fight with one of my former best friends two weeks

ago because she outed my boob job! Brittany's been trying to have sex with me and I'm running out of excuses, I honestly don't care about not having a sex drive I just want to be normal; sex

isn't more important than me being a girl…a complete girl."

"Fair enough. We will set up counseling sessions weekly. Does Saturday work for you?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

She replied, glancing down at her fingernails, trying her best not to pay her therapist any attention.

"Very well. You will talk to Dr. Jennings about your erection when you go for next week's appointment. I'll see you next week."

She stands.

"And Santana?"

She whipped around, turning to face her sympathetic therapist.

"It's only twelve sessions...three months isn't as long as it seems."

She shook her head again.

"It is when you've been waiting forever."

She turned and left the office in a burst of mixed emotions. She was walking quickly, briskly down the hallway. She didn't notice the shorter girl who'd rounded the corner at the same time,

looking down intently at the bundles of paper she had in her hands. They collided, both falling back on their heels, hitting the floor with an audible 'Umph'. There were papers everywhere.

Santana got up quickly, grabbing various sheets around her.

"Sorry wasn't watching where I was going."

"Not a problem, Santana."

Her head snapped up then, finally realizing who she'd bumped into. She dropped the papers crossing her arms over her chest.

"Berry."

"I didn't know you wore regular clothes. I also never expected to see you...here. What? Do you have anger management?"

"Yea, I cut a tranny on the way to my father's car. Move, Berry."

"You were coming from Dr. Collins office, she's my therapist too..."

Santana tensed, nervous at the thought of someone knowing.

"I- why is it any of your business, Manhands?"

She watched Rachel flinch and quickly compose herself.

"Well you're coming from the Dr. Collins office. Finally coming out of the closet? Congratulations to Brittany."

Rachel smiled that megawatt smile.

"Whatever, Berry. Why do you know Marian? Coming out of your own closet, freak?"

She walked by her then, intentionally bumping shoulders with the smaller girl. Stalking off toward her father, who was talking to the front desk attendant.

"Dr. Collins, I feel that these sessions are completely unnecessary. While I completely understand the validity of my father's fears, I can honestly assure you that I am completely

comfortable in my sexuality."

The doctor pinched the bridge of her nose. Shaking her head at the difficult teen. She watched her shuffle through stacks of charts and graphs disheveled in her lap, waiting to barrage the

therapist with facts and supported research.

"Rachel, your fathers want to make sure that you are living a healthy progressive adolescence. There is nothing wrong with that. I specialize in child sexual identity and sexual disorders. You

come from a non-traditional, male oriented family, and your fathers just want to make sure the lack of a dominant female influence doesn't skew your outlook on other relationship dynamics.

Now, as your fathers are paying for these sessions, the discussion of cancellation is non-negotiable. How are you today, Rachel?"

"I am well, thank you..." She slouched in her chair, her defeated shoulders sagged as she realized that she was stuck in counseling with the doctor.

"Your fathers informed me that they found you in a compromising position with a female associate? I thought you were dating one... Finn Hudson, what happened?"

The doctor watched the younger teen, pulling uncomfortably on the bottom hem of her pleated skirt.

"Well, we are technically still involved, and my fathers continue to violate my privacy on a regular basis."

"So you haven't told this young man that you cheated on him?"

"Well I am ready to tell him I'm just ...waiting for the right moment."

"I see, well? This young lady? When did these feelings toward females come about?"

"I just... I let Finn touch me intimately. I'm not ready for intercourse, but I thought because we shared a seriously emotional moment, I could bend the rules a little, and reward him. And I tried

my best to be eager and passionate. But, when I kissed Bella, it's... different. I wanted to be with Finn so badly that I didn't realize what happened after I got him. It was like I reached a goal, and

there is no room for advancement. I want to control him sometimes, it's nice to know that someone is supportive of you in that way. But Bella and I had gotten close and there was just so

much there when I kissed her and... I didn't want to be gay. I didn't want other people to think that I am a product of gay parenting, but I've come to terms with my feelings and I can honestly

convey my sincerity. It felt like fire in my stomach when I kissed her, and...it has nothing to do with the way I was raised."

She sat there, the verbose young woman looking wide-eyed at her. This was the third session they'd had, each becoming more of a fight than the last. She came there every Saturday,

stubborn and persistent as she tried her best to convince her that she had other things to better occupy her time. And shortly after she'd blurt out every single feeling she'd had; the

internalizing teenager didn't have many peers to confide in.

"So, what is to happen with her then, and Finn?"

"Well I am going to tell him that it won't work out because I have to focus on what I have been undergoing. And Bella, she wasn't as comfortable with her feelings as I was, and she won't be

taking my calls anymore."

"And how does that make you fe-"

They were interrupted by a quiet knock on her door. And a shaggy red head popping into the doorway.

"Sorry Dr. Collins. You have a emergency on my line."

The doctor excused herself then, leaving Rachel in the room alone. Moments passed, Rachel easily becoming impatient, deciding to sit at the doctor's desk and check her Myspace in the

meantime. She logged into her account, waiting for the ancient machine in front of her to respond. A thick pink folder caught her attention, the corner of it peaking from under her own,

the name Lopez partially visible on the tab. She tried her best to ignore it, her curiosity itching furiously at her fingers. She didn't know why she did it, but she quickly flipped through the

notes, only stopping when the notes on the margins began to connect. Words flashing like intersexed and hermaphrodite into her vision. She was furiously checking the fog glass door at

the front of the large office, stopping in the folder only when she saw a medical photo of a child. She shut it quickly then, logging out of her Myspace and replacing the folder to its rightful place.

She hated her meddlesome mind, and this time she didn't know what to do with the scandalous information.

**A/N: **Bella will be explained and the name calling sometime next chapter, working on it now, please review.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter has a graphic scene of a sexual nature. You've been warned. This would have been uploaded sooner if didn't do maintenance. Read and Review. **

It was Sunday morning, she woke to another erection, tenting her sheets and pulling her from her usually late morning sleep. She wiped the grogginess from her eyes, staring unbelievably at the offense. Her parents weren't home, so she stood, shivering at the morning breeze drifting through her open window. She tiptoed to her bathroom, turning the water on a reasonably cold setting, and stepped into the shower. She let the water cascade over the top of her skull, falling languidly over her closed eyes, dancing over the standing member at her groin. She switched the weight on the balls of her feet, sidestepping the now freezing water, turning full circle after washing and finally rinsing off. She grabbed her robe, relishing in the warmth of her green terrycloth, dripping all the way back to her carpeted bedroom.

She brushed her hair, pulling the knots and towel drying the thick unruly curls. She pulled on the baby tee, the ones that didn't quite fit right after her augmentation, and baggy running shorts. It was then she noticed that her erection hadn't relented, and the dull ache was finally drawing too much of her attention. She sat on her bed, pressing her back to the headboard. She thumbed the front of her shorts down enough to release the pointing organ, running her hand along the shaft. It wasn't long, but neither was it short, but engorged it honestly looked thick. She was repulsed…but she was also curious.

She'd never masturbated. Ever. She usually stayed away from that area unless she was bathing. Her sex drive was lacking, the most she'd ever feel was wetness, a silent aching thump against her panties, enough to acknowledge but not enough to satiate. But this…hardness was undeniable, and she knew the only way to rid herself of the bulge in her pants was to touch herself. She gripped it at the base, squeezing it loosely as she traced it to the tip. The feelings it elicited were overwhelming. Her toes curled downward as she continued, stroking down to the base and dipping her finger into her surprisingly wet vagina. She pressed in then, resuming her strokes with her other hand.

She was curling inward on herself as she continued, her mouth agape, furiously pulling at herself, relishing the feeling of arousal, the first of its kind in her lifetime. She felt the steady build, bubbling at the base of her stomach. She almost stopped herself, not sure of the outcome that would result from her frantic ministrations. But she continued, bellowing out as she orgasmed, the clear, sticky liquid seeping slowly down her hands. She fell against her bed, breathless and spent, closing her eyes momentarily before jumping up and heading back to the bathroom.

She washed her hands, then her face; staring at the mirror in front of her. She felt kind of disgusted, but she was satisfied. Her dark features were flushed, strings of her hair flat around the edges of her hairline. Her skin was glowing and she was tired, thinking about sleeping. Her stomach rumbled, and she decided that eating first was probably a good idea. She slipped on her flip flops, jogging briskly to the kitchen. She began making her sandwich, piling on meat cheese and lettuce, opting to skip the mayonnaise. As she spread mustard on her roll, the doorbell sounded.

She was skeptical. They rarely had visitors Sundays. Brittany had her own key for years, especially when her parents decided to move to a smaller house after Brittany's sister got into that Mensa school. The blonde was ditsy at times, but she never lost her key to the Lopez house, as it was usually clipped to the cheerios bag that was always in her trunk. She opened the door, slightly confused when she saw Rachel Berry standing there, a knowing smirk plastered on her devious little face.

"Who the hell told you where I live, Manhands?"

She walked in uninvited, walking past her and into their foyer.

"There aren't many ranch houses in this tax bracket, Santana, it wasn't hard. And shouldn't I be calling you that?"

She blanched. Shutting the door and speeding past her toward the kitchen, trying to find something to do with her hands other than strangling the Jewish girl silently following her.

"And what does that mean, freak?"

She was spreading more mustard on her sandwich.

"Can we cease with the name calling? I've come to make a deal with you, Santana. Are you interested?"

"Why would I bargain with you? I only make deals that benefit _**me**_ and being as though you have nothing to offer— I think you should leave."

"Well, I beg to differ. I want to try out for the Cheerios. And I know you can put a good word in for me with Coach Sylvester." 

"Why would I do that? And why the hell would you want to join the Cheerios? And why am I even considering this?"

"Well I know something about you that you might not want to get out. Help me with this and your secret is safe. Otherwise…"

"You know nothing, Berry. And besides, I am no longer head Cheerio, so my word would do nothing. And for your information, once a Gleek, always a Gleek, they won't quit messing with you."

Santana walked away from her, carrying her plate toward the living room.

"Hermaphrodite." It was barely audible, but it stopped her in her tracks.

Her head rolled on her neck before she spun around. She squinted at the girl in front of her, her plate shaking in her trembling hands.

"What did you call me?"

"The same thing you've been calling me since seventh grade, Santana. Stings doesn't it?"

"You know, Berry… I've been a bitch forever. I never try to be anything else. But you—you pretend to be nice and accepting, you tell people they can confide in you, but at the first thing that benefits your sick ascent to popularity you blackmail me? Bravo, Berry."

She watched the small girl slouch in place, pushing her hair behind her ears before speaking, her eyes tearing.

"Look, Santana. I knew coming here with that proposition without… something to convince you to help me that you wouldn't. I just, I told Finn that I cheated on him…and now he won't even talk to me. And… this last week has been worse than normal but—I wasn't going to actually spread that piece of gossip that would be cruel…I just needed leverage. Now that he's quarterback and he dumped me I'm back down to school outcast. I got slushied nine times this week. I just…I'm sorry."

Santana walked over to the island, putting her plate on the marble surface, switching her weight between feet, as she rubbed her eyes, trying desperately to think of what to say to the pint sized drama queen.

"Look. No one knows. _**No one.**_ Not Quinn, not Puck, not anyone at school. Not even Brittany. _**Especially**_ not Brittany. And no one is gonna know. Got it?"

Rachel raised her hands, palms facing outward, shaking her head in accordance.

"I won't say a word. I can sign a contract if you like."

She eyed the girl in front of her, her next question burning a hole through her throat.

"How did you find out?"

"Well, um, you see—Dr. Collins left her office and I saw your folder on her desk and I just looked inside. But I promise I didn't tell anyone, not even my fathers and she doesn't know I looked so it's not her fault—"

"Can it Berry. I got it."

Her stomach grumbled. She picked up her messy sandwich, taking a bite from it before discarding it back on her plate. She felt uneasy.

"So you cheated on Finn? With who?"

She watched Rachel squirm again, amused that the tables had turned.

"Well Bella, she's in my ballet class. I just. We just- it was only a kiss."

She took another bite of her sandwich. She nearly choked as the tiny girl in front of her sputtered out her sentence. She wiped her mouth of spare mustard.

"So you're gay." It was a statement.

"I am what I am and that's all that matters. Now I'll be on my way. I can reassure you that your secret is safe with me and that I will keep my word. It would be ideal if you don't say anything about the Finn situation as it would further ruin both of our reputations."

She followed her out. Closing the door and locking it behind her. She went back to the kitchen, grabbing her sandwich and continuing her meal, silently thinking as she sat down at the kitchen table. She _**loved**_ food. All kinds, any time she could fit in a meal. She would eat almost anything put in front of her; Sue's shakes would clean her system out by dinner time. She all but swallowed her sandwich, tossing the plate in the sink before settling in front of the living room television set. Berry, gay—it figured, she mused. Suddenly, a flash of Berry kissing another girl crossed her thoughts, she felt a slight stirring—mentally kicking herself for thinking the lustful thoughts. She didn't feel as guilty masturbating for the second time that day.

****

She felt stupid on the cab ride home. She'd gone there with every intention of outing the girl and finding some answers to the constant torture she'd endured over the previous years. When she saw her standing there she'd gotten confident that the girl would have no reason not to comply with her terms. It backfired on her—as most things in her life usually did.

She started her Sunday at ballet, Bella averting her eyes during most of the class. She walked home, personally hurt that she would be blatantly ignored by a girl that she was close to mere weeks before. It had been the closest she'd come to a sincere friendship, and she was somewhat shattered that she was back to being a loner.

"$20.70, Miss."

She shook her head, passing the cab driver the 25 dollars she clutched in her hand.

"Thank you for waiting."

She exited the car, running to the door of her house and walking straight up to her room. She lay on her bed, tracing lazy circles on her stomach. She thought of all the things she could have been doing, but decided against them. She kicked her shoes off and relaxed, bringing her folded arms under her head. She couldn't shake the photo she'd found in Santana's folder. She looked no older than ten in the picture, her flat chest undefined and ambiguous. There was a small penis protruding from her vagina at the top; too big to be anything else, and her mind lingered on what size it would be now. The Cheerio hid it well, especially if none of her peers had ever found out. She was seriously curious, she had so many questions but knew better than to intrude again on the cheerleader. She drifted off to sleep, not bothering to change out of her clothes.

End of Chapter 3

A/N: So yea it's a romance. Next chapter will be posted soon. Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This fic is slightly AU. Everything so far has happened in this universe, except Finn and Rachel are obviously broken up. Don't know how much I will be incorporating in the story, but I'm sure these are spoilers to someone who hasn't watched all of the season 2 episodes multiple times.

Read and Review

Puck often came by her house on Monday nights. He would slip into her window as soon as she cut off her lights, and sneak beneath her sheets. Both of her parents worked the night shift during the week and Brittany usually stayed home on Monday nights, spending the time playing board games with her family. Tonight was a rare occurrence though, since Puck was so sullen after his failed relationship with Quinn, he hadn't been to see her in months. She was surprised too when she felt his warm skin against her bare legs, her shorts bunched around her hot thighs, his arms wrapped around her midsection. He rubbed her stomach; soothing small circles into her skin around her belly button. She didn't stop him. She stayed still when he cupped the bottom of her new breasts, grazing the tips of the sensitive nubs and rounding it with his fingertips. His curious hands travelled toward her shorts, rubbing eagerly under the waistband right before she sat up; stopping him. She listened to him fall flat on his back against her bed, blowing air out of his cheeks before clearing his throat.

"You're worse than she was…"

She leaned her head back, her hair tumbling over the backs of her shoulders, tickling the valley of her spine as she pulled it together into a tight knot. Her skin was wet, a sheen of eager nervousness goose bumping her uncovered arms. She shook her head negatively, turning sideways to glare at him with clenched teeth.

"At least I get you off." She quirked her eyebrow, daring him to contest her.

He didn't. He sat up against her headboard and pulled down her sheet, exposing his tented boxer briefs. She took the cue, settling between his feet at the end of her bed. She descended him, kissing and nipping at him accordingly, following the flow of his breathing as he cockily folded his massive arms behind his head. He stares directly at her, concentrating on the bobbing motion of her head, pulling his right hand down to her makeshift pony tail and tugging it possessively, throwing his head back as she worked beneath him, growling quietly at the constant pull of her scalp. She continued that way for a while, the rhythm of her movement and his irregular breathing urging her on.

Something was different this time, though, as lightheadedness came upon her, stealing her breath and tingling all the way to her groin, rushing and pulsating to her hips, the erection she was getting pulling her away from the task at hand. Suddenly her angle changed as she tried to readjust herself flat against her bed, her bottom teeth nipping him as he slid out of her mouth.

"Ah, shit!" He pulled away from her, rolling onto his side as he grabbed himself, his eyes closed while he sucked in his breath.

She grabbed the body pillow at the end of her bed to shield herself, waiting for him to stop rocking.

"You bit me, Lopez- that shit hurt!"

She was thinking furiously of some rebuttal to explain her lack of finesse, but instead watched as he groped in the dark for his clothes, guided by the light of her open window he left her there, quiet and half in shock. Her erection had miraculously disappeared, a confused feeling settling at the pit of her heavy stomach. She sat in the dark for a while, deciding that she'd make something up the following day about punishment and the audacity Puck had for sneaking into her bedroom. She felt like crying herself to sleep, but she couldn't, her emotions tight behind her eyes and refusing to come forward. She rocked herself to sleep, feeling suddenly alone in her plight.

0000 0000 00000

When he told the class the following morning about Puck getting locked up, she nervously laughed with the rest of the class, the guilt of the night before felt like vomit on her tongue. She perked up slightly at the mention of BreadstiX, deciding to herself that it obviously wasn't her fault. The rest of the day crept by. She tried her best to get her mind off things making out with Brittany, pulling away from her and changing the subject when she felt that familiar tingle at her crotch. She knew she'd been harsh by what she said about just needing anyone beneath her. She felt guilty the moment it stumbled out of her mouth, but she decided that she needed a distraction from the obvious secret revealing itself in her Cheerios skirt.

The rest of the week was a blur. All she could focus on was sex. She was starting to understand what it was like being one of the guys she usually teased and tortured at school. She even caught herself thinking about how Mercedes was in bed, her voice prompting one unwelcome vivid fantasy about what she would sound like during sex while they were practicing their choreography. She secretly welcomed the break from having Brittany around for a while, her perfume did wicked things to her body. She got through most of the week without any major mishaps, deciding to wear her suffocating spandex shorts over her underwear to avoid any unwanted attention. Her week ended in the Cheerios locker room, she needed a cold shower before heading to practice, trying her best to keep her mind out of the gutter under all those skimpy skirts. She hadn't expected to find Berry there, singing in one of the stalls of the shower.

"You know if Coach catches you in here she's going to kill you, right?"

The singing stopped.

"Well, last time I checked she was getting ready for Cheerios practice out on the field. So if you don't say anything…"

She was shocked the dwarf knew that the Cheerios locker room was the only locker room aside from the football teams that stayed open in the school. Let alone that the Cheerios would head straight to practice without ever having to change into their uniforms. She shrugged even though the shorter girl couldn't see her:

"Whatever, RuPaul."

She started untying her shoes. Playing with the laces as she heard Berry shut off the shower head and tip toe to the bench she was sitting at. She didn't dare look up.

"I didn't have anywhere to shower before I got home, I hate it when my parents see my stained clothes, they start asking too many questions…"

"Did I speak to you?"

She stood up, facing away from the mouthy brunette and unzipping the top of her Cheerios uniform.

"You can pretend to be mean, Santana, I already know it's a façade."

She ignored her. She turned around just as Rachel pulled off her towel to dry her hair. She whipped back around and tried to forget the image before it bothered her. She suddenly felt hot in her sports bra.

"Does it work?"

The question caught her completely off guard. She couldn't stop her mouth from falling slack jawed.

"Does what work, Berry?"

"You know… your stuff…"

She was pulling her shirt over her head, the long sleeved black cardigan dark around the contrast of her tan skin. She couldn't help but stare. She shook her head of her thoughts before replacing her look with one of indignation.

"Do you have to blurt out every stupid little thought that crosses your fruity little brain, Treasure Trail? Don't worry about my stuff it works just fine."

She grabbed her towel before stalking off toward the showers, noticing that the need for her cold shower was still ever present.

000 0000 000

She noticed the diva in the bleachers during practice, and she could see her standing by her car when she finally emerged from the locker room, her duffel bag tucked under her arm. Brittany was still angry with her, so she was riding home with Becky and her mom. She stalked over to her car on the far side of the parking lot, walking to her driver side door and ignoring the brunette leaning against her gas tank.

"I wanted to apologize for being so crass earlier; it was rude of me."

"You've been apologizing a lot lately, Berry, I think we are interacting a way too much to my liking. So scamper away, I'm sure you and the keebler elves have something to bake up back at the tree stump, Stubbles. Now get off my car."

"The name calling is rather unnecessary now, Santana, I was thinking we could be each other's outlet. I mean, I can listen and I wouldn't judge you and maybe we could sort of become allies…"

She snorted at the girl standing in front of her, her books clutched to her chest, her hair slightly wavy and still somewhat damp.

"Berry, you need to chill with the sentimental bullshit. You know my secret, so what. We didn't share secrets and make up some secret code. I don't spit in your hand and make secret handshakes. You are who you are and I am who I am; stop trying to mix colors, Berry, it gets old fast. Now get off my car."

She backed away, staring at her while she got inside her car, throwing her duffel bag in the passenger seat. Rachel tapped on the window before she could pull off. She rolled her eyes before rolling it down.

"What?"

"When you realize that you need someone to talk to about what you're feeling…when you get tired of going it alone…I think you'll change your mind."

She watched her walk away, disappearing from the parking lot as she backed out of it herself, determined to get Rachel Berry out of her head.

End of Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I kept handwriting and then putting off the daunting task of typing this up. A few notes: The doctors are in tandem on Santana's file. Fictionally she's a very rare case of intersexuality. They have the permission to speak about her case amongst themselves, and I am hoping that I am conveying the close, personal relationship they all share. The next chapter has a lot of smut. It may seem OOC—but I will be including Rachel's reaction to it in the next installment, and hopefully it meshes the way I hope it will.

Oh and I forgot this:

Disclaimer:

These characters are simply puppets. I merely make them dance.

Read and Review, it feeds my muse.

Chapter Six:

She pulled into the parking lot of the hospital nearly an hour later, noting that Rachel had made her ten minutes late for her six o'clock appointment. Cursing the garden troll as she parked, she dashed in to meet her parents at their usual spot near the intake desk. She smiled and waved at Nurse Diane, walking without waiting to be announced to Dr. J's office. Her appointment went as it usually did. She started with a physical, then a gynological exam and x-rays. Her blood was drawn and she was pestered for urine and tested for hormone levels. Her appointment ended as it usually did; her sitting in front of Dr. J's disheveled desk—her parents already excused from the room.

"So, Santana, how have things been coming along? Any new developments?" She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Well the underwear is helping. Took me three orders to match the red to my Cheerios uniform; but I'm coping with the surprise boners."

He smirked sympathetically at her, seemingly familiar with the uncontrollable urges teenagers go through at her age. He continued, pulling his glasses up and sliding them into his thinning strawberry blonde and gray hair.

"Well, Marian and I spoke and she keyed me in to her explanation of protocol. We can move forward in at least scheduling your surgery. We will be extracting some of the sensitive erectile tissue and forming it into a hopefully functioning clitoris. Have you experienced any numbness or lack of feeling?"

She shook her head, paying too much attention to her well maintained fingernails.

"Well as you have no testicles, seminal fluid will not be an issue. You should neither have any voice problems or hair growth due to your overpowering amount of estrogen. Your hormones may be a little wacked but I'm sure that's nothing new. "

"Well it's nice to know I can't get all those girls lining up at my locker pregnant eh doc?"

She joked, rolling her eyes when his demeanor turned serious.

"Santana if you are going to be sexually active, I suggest using condoms. Albeit sterile you could easily contract or spread sexually transmitted diseases, infections or –"

"Doc it was a joke. I doubt I voluntarily show anyone my Doc Johnson before you guys hack it off. "

"Even still be careful, be safe. Curiosity is expected, Santana, however you don't want any unnecessary risks."

He cleared his throat, loosening his tie as he skimmed over his half covered desk calendar.

"How about late January? You'll be out of commission for a few weeks, no cheerleading, vigorous exercise or strenuous activity until your stitches heal—"

"Woah, woah, woah—back that up? Do you know Sue Sylvester? If I miss more than three practices I sit out for Nationals."

"Well, we can wait as long as you feel comfortable; just know you will be experiencing pubescence. Morning erections, night emissions and hormonal changes. We will have to monitor you internally to make sure that we don't miss any stunted growths or abnormalities. We can schedule your surgery for the last week of June, and you'll have ample time to heal over the summer."

She sat there, her mind racing to process the scattered thoughts whizzing through her head. It was October, June seemed like light years away. She knew if she kept her not so tiny secret quiet for this long, she could wait until next summer. A few more months showering alone in the handi-capable showers and staying out of tight situations was worth keeping her well earned reputation. She looked at her lifelong doctor, nodding before finally speaking her mind.

"Okay, I think I can deal with that. In the meantime, can I get some anti Viagra?"

He chuckled then, pulling his glasses down from atop his head.

"No more medicine for you, my dear," he quipped, ushering her out of his office to her waiting parents. He engaged in doctor speak with her father, a pediatric surgeon, and her mother, an ER nurse. They left in separate vehicles, her parents heading off to work while she decided to go make amends with Brittany.

000 0000 000

Brittany usually forgot when she was angry with Santana. This time was no different. She called her best friend en route to her house; the bubbly greeting she received confirmed her suspicions. She was five minutes away when Brittany informed her of the date she was currently on. Santana rolled her eyes and told her she would call her later, switching directions to head to Breadstix for takeout instead. She thought absentmindedly to herself as she drove. She used to get furiously jealous with anyone Brittany dated. She often found ways to sabotage the union before they spiraled into anything serious.

That was why the week before bothered her. She knew that Artie had the potential to be an adequate distraction, and she fumed when Brittany had blatantly let it slip in glee that she added another notch to her bedpost. She knew it was a jab to her not wanting to sing a duet with her, and she let it slide; that time. She loved her best friend more than anything, but she seriously wasn't in love with her. Sure, they fooled around, but they also understood that element of their friendship. The jealousy usually stemmed from one simple fact:

When they were with other people, they never had time for each other.

Other people just didn't understand. They didn't understand Santana's forever shifting temperament. They couldn't comprehend Brittany's ADHD, often classifying her as stupid when she was usually spaced on the medicine that was supposed to help her stay focused. It was much easier to be best friends with benefits with Brittany, other people just wasted their time and hurt their feelings. She gave everything to the blonde, and she'd do anything for her; even if that was just so she could be as selfish a friend as she wanted to be. Brittany didn't mind. She used her for the same reasons. She often brushed off any of their male peers, making out with them and moving on.

She realized that even when they were younger; that her best friend was a lesbian. Santana always admired her for her assurance in the matter. If anything, assurance was always something Santana ached for. She wanted it; and she always got what she wanted. She was a stingy, selfish and spoiled child, the only one her parents would successfully have. And she always got what she wanted; keeping it was the hard part. She wanted acceptance, normality—not experimentation and longing. She often guessed when Brittany found the girl of her dreams, their sexual exploration would cease and she'd be happy that her friend found someone as amazing as she was.

She pulled into the Breadstix To Go lot, skipping the line and walking up to Kevin. He nodded and she paid, ten minutes later she walked back to her car to drive home. She pulled out of the lot, biting down on the crunchy breadstick, one handedly maneuvering her black two door coup. She nearly crashed, swerving onto a curb to avoid the dazed, soaked and crying Rachel Berry. She got out of her car, fuming more at the thought that she'd dropped one of her breadsticks than she was over almost crashing her car. She slammed her door, jogging to catch up to the diva.

"Berry what the fuck! I almost ran into a pole because you don't know how to look before crossing."

"Sorry Santana." She kept walking, not paying the Cheerio beside her any attention.

Santana crossed her arms. Nobody blatantly ignored Santana Lopez, she thought.

"They slushy you outside of school now? What did you do?"

Rachel stopped, balling her fists at her sides.

"I didn't do anything and I am offended that you are insinuating that I deserve any of this!"

She must have been going through some of those hormonal changes, since she decided not to deck the Jewish girl beside her. Santana took in her appearance. There were traces of every flavor slushy on different parts of her clothes. She even noticed that some of the colors had mixed—the ridiculous brown staining the front of her ugly white and black unicorn sweater vest. She softened; however, the defensive edge was still clear in her tone.

"Well, why did they slushy you?"

" Karofsky's sister told him what happened. She called me and told me to meet her at the bowling alley. That was over an hour ago."

She furrowed her brows, trying to figure out what Berry could have done to Karofsky's sister.

"Still lost here?"

She watches as Rachel rolls her eyes, her hand on her hip.

"Bella is his sister."

Santana mouthed a big O, finally slowing her pace next to the girl.

"Well, um…you want a ride home?"

She winced at her own offer, trying to decipher why she was actually trying to help the girl she tormented on a daily basis.

"I can't go home until my fathers go to bed. They'll want to press charges if they see me like this—thank you for your offer, though."

Santana tried to stop herself before the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"Well just come to my house."

Rachel stopped; looking at her like the offer was a practical joke. She relaxed, hesitantly walking back to her car. They were quiet when they both slid into the leather seats, Santana biting her tongue at the sticky sound of Rachel settling in. She pulled off, driving in silence for ten minutes before she resumed eating one of the nine breadsticks she had left in her bag. She'd offer the singer one but she didn't want to come off too nice; and besides, she never shared good food. They pulled into her driveway, Santana climbing out of the car with her food and darting to the front door, Rachel following silently behind her. She put her food down in the kitchen, and showed Rachel to her bedroom, and finally her bathroom, giving her towels, a loose fitting tank top and a pair of her WMHS sweats. She told her to take her time and chose that moment to head back to the kitchen to eat. She devoured her food, threw away her trash and headed back to her room. She was greeted by a freshly clean Rachel Berry, who was running the towel down the length of her hair, ringlets of damp curls falling and framing her face. The sweatpants were too long, and the red tank top didn't hide the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. She coughed to clear the silence.

"You can stay the night. I've been driving all day and by the time I feel like taking you home your pops will probably have a bitch fit."

She nodded, staring oddly at the girl in front of her, relaxing finally against the tension before asking to use her telephone, since hers was still wet. Santana listened to her assure her fathers that she would be fine, and that she would be home tomorrow. She hung up, finally sitting in Santana's computer chair. Santana decided that a silent Rachel Berry was eerily unnerving. Just as she was about to speak, Rachel broke the quiet.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

She rolled her eyes at her, toying with the pompoms hung on the top of her headboard. She shrugged.

"I slushy you because you're a dork and you need to bring that diva-tude down a few notches. They did it because you're gay; that's not cool."

She saw her flinch at the word.

"Don't get it twisted, dwarf, we aren't friends or anything like that. If Britt was here I would have left you outside. "

Rachel smiled. It was the kind of smile she gave to people who were nice to her. Santana just rolled her eyes.

"Well anyway, you have to sleep in here. My parents converted the guest room to a second office and my mother will have my hide if I let you sleep on the couch." Rachel nodded.

"Are you hungry?"

She shook her head.

"Well, are you going to just sit here?"

Rachel shrugged.

"Whatever. I need a shower, so the tv is in the living room, raid the pantry for snacks and don't touch anything else. My parents won't be home till around 7:30."

000 0000 000

When she emerged from the bathroom a fast forty minutes later in her Cheerios mesh shorts and tank top, Rachel was gone and the house was too quiet. Her soiled clothes were neatly folded on the floor, the hallways quiet in the one story ranch house. She first checked the kitchen; next the living room. She didn't find her until she stumbled past the dining room, Rachel's head awkwardly turned to get a better look at the photo on the wall. There were dozens of them adorning the room, her parents choosing to document almost every milestone of her life. Rachel moved on, not noticing Santana standing in the archway with her arms crossed. She was staring at a picture of her first gymnastics competition. She cleared her throat—the shorter girl whipping around with rosy cheeks; caught.

"Sorry I couldn't figure out how to turn on the television set."

Santana looked at the dining room table. The multi-pad remote left discarded in the middle. When Santana said nothing, Rachel moved on to the next photo, and then the following fidgeting with her hands and biting her bottom lip.

"Ask your question, Berry."

She watched her let out a mouthful of air, relaxing in her presence.

"So how long have you known Brittany?"

Santana walked over to her, eyeing the picture she was looking at. It was her first year at cheer camp and they were both eleven. They were sitting by the lake, elbows on their knees and pinkies linked; smiling devilishly into the camera. It brought back good memories, she smiled to herself.

"Since I enrolled into formal school—"

Rachel quirked her brow.

"I was homeschooled until I was 9."

Rachel nodded, moving on to the next picture—a family Christmas photo.

"Your mom is African American?"

Santana nodded, not taking offense to the question since she knew Rachel's father was also black.

"Well she's Black and German."

Rachel looked at her again, taking her in from foot to face, as if trying to place the cultural differences of her parents in her genetic makeup. She moved on to the next picture, pointing in inquiry at it. She was four in that picture, her parents surrounding the birthday table. Also in the picture were her four grandparents and both of her doctors.

"That was my naming day."

She watched Rachel quirk an eyebrow. She shifted on the balls of her feet, not knowing if she should be sharing such personal memories with the girl she'd voluntarily invited over. She struggled with the back and forth inside her head. She quickly decided that Rachel already knew her biggest secret—and since she hadn't scandalized her at school, she decided she could trust the girl.

"Well…I didn't have a name until I was four. My parents didn't know what I would turn out to be, so when my mother let me pick out what I wanted to wear for my birthday I picked that dress…they finally put my name on my birth certificate."

Rachel beamed in front of her.

"That's actually really sweet, Santana."

Santana smirked.

"Don't ever call me sweet, Berry."

Rachel rolled her eyes and moved on to the next photo. Santana was walking down the aisle of a pharmacy, a murderous frown on her face, arms crossed—her mother standing next to her, pointing and laughing at her. Santana laughed awkwardly.

"That was last year. My Dad thought it was funny to take pictures of me buying my first box of tampons."

Rachel cupped her mouth, shaking her head and laughing.

"That sounds like something my Dads would do. That's a little odd though."

"Well they didn't know if I'd be able to have kids. So we all went to the store together."

They looked through most of the pictures on the wall. Santana explained most of them to Rachel. By the time they got to the pictures from her Quincenera, she realized that it was nearing midnight. Rachel stopped at the most recent pictures, furrowing her brow at the one of her and Puck. They were sitting on a deck, his arm casually tossed over her shoulders. He was kissing her on the cheek, and Santana was smiling full on into the camera.

"How doesn't Puck know? Or Brittany? Or even Quinn?"

She'd expected Rachel to ask that question earlier, noting that she finally grew some manners and decided to not tactlessly blurt it out before.

"Why would they?"

Rachel's head shot up, her fumbling over her words until she made one simple declaration.

"Well, Santana, you're a rather promiscuous girl."

"Berry, you of all people should know that most rumors aren't true. Isn't there a nasty little rumor about you and your dads floating around about how they take you to see Barbra Streisand in drag?"

"Well, you've confirmed most of them yourself. You've never denied your reputation.'

"Right—I never denied it, I didn't confirm it either. And besides, hooking up doesn't have to mean sex."

Rachel blanched.

"So you're a virgin, even with Brittany?"

"Personal question, midget; mind your business."

She walked away, skirting the question.

"Speaking of Britt, I forgot to call her after her date." She thought out loud.

"Oh! I saw her at the bowling alley."

"Who was she with?"

"I couldn't tell, they were wearing a Carmel letterman jacket."

"Oh, well I'll call her tomorrow. I'm going to sleep. Need me to turn on the t.v.?"

She shook her head.

"I'm actually surprised I'm putting together coherent thoughts, I think I'll do the same."

They walked to her bedroom together, pulling down the sheets and tossing the decorative red and black pillows into a chest at the bottom of her full sized bed. They settled under the blanket, their backs close to touching, Santana clapping off the lights before pulling her blanket above her head. She felt her body relax gradually, her drooping eyes almost shut before the low buzz reverberated beneath her comforter. She rolled her eyes. 'Of course Rachel Berry snores,' she mused, 'she'll probably drool on my pillow too.' She flipped onto her back, making sure not to touch the girl curled into the fetal position beside her. She wanted to go sleep in her parent's bed, but she knew they'd wake her up too early the next morning to get her out of it. She closed her eyes again, trying to ignore the soft humming noises coming from the Jewish girl beside her.

000 0000 000

She woke up to heat. She was hot and sweating everywhere and she didn't know why. She found her senses, scanning under the blanket with her eyes, stopping only when she realized she was spooning with Rachel Berry. Her arm was wrapped around Rachel's midsection, tucked casually underneath her bare breasts; the tank top tangled higher on her chest. Their legs were twisted around each other, Santana realizing the tightness of her mesh shorts, which currently restricted her raging erection. She started pulling away, Rachel turning around and settling on her chest as Santana managed to lie on her back. She was about slide out of the bed but a single leg draped dangerously over her hip, pinning her as she watched the sleeping diva get comfortable on her chest and snuggled into the crook of her neck. She sharply inhaled a breath, keeping as still as she possibly could.

She was extremely uncomfortable; Rachel's leg could easily brush over the bulge and stir; blowing her rape whistle. The feeling of her invading her personal space only made her harder. She felt it then, the bubbling energy moving from her lungs to her throat shattering the quiet of the room. Her cough was loud and temporarily unrelenting. It finally settled, and Rachel was still snoring, none the wiser to her current predicament. And she still couldn't move from beneath her. She pinched her, trying to see how sleep the girl really was. She didn't wake up, her snoring getting slightly louder. She let out a breath and snagged the comforter with the arm that wasn't underneath Rachel. She pulled it until it slid off them. Rachel simply snuggled into her more, tucking into the crook of her neck so that her lips were brushing skin and she could feel the faint vibrations of her snoring on her skin. Her legs moved then, brushing her penis with the inside of her thigh, eliciting a low noise from the bottom of Santana's throat. Her breath hitched the second time she did it.

She would go crazy if she stayed in that position. She tentatively rolled sideways, Rachel was still asleep and she rolled onto her side and curled into a ball again. Santana tried again to move, still pinned by the arm that was stuck under Rachel's midsection. She pulled slightly, stopping when Rachel backed into her, spooning against the hard-on she harbored. Santana stopped moving all together then, relishing in the feeling of Rachel grinding into her pelvis. She felt like she'd never get harder than she was now, and it was starting to get painful. She rubbed against her softly, the up and down motion lighting dynamite behind her now closed eyelids. The snoring in the room was unchanging, constant and undisturbed. She rubbed against the diva's round bottom, her penis lifting the bottom of her shorts in the process, the tip darting out and brushing against fabric. She moved her free arm to her waist, pressing her hips into her own. She was starting to feel guilty taking advantage of the situation, but she couldn't masturbate on her back with the girl next to her either. She was pulling against her, her mouth open, hips thrusting when she noticed how quiet it had gotten.

She froze. Her eyes snapped open and Rachel turned at that same moment, her eyes bright like campfire. Santana's cheeks were an uncharacteristic red, she was sure Rachel could see it from the soft light coming from her open window. She dragged her arm from under Rachel, leaning up on her elbows to apologize, to try her best to convince her that she wasn't doing what she had been doing. Maybe she'd believe she was sleep grinding.

"Rachel I—"

The kiss was soft and cautious. Rachel kissed her like she'd drift away at any moment. It took her a moment to kiss her back, shocking even herself when she didn't pull away. Santana's arms went to her waist when Rachel began to gain confidence, pulling on her full bottom lip and sucking on it. Santana pulled her on top of her, her back hitting the headboard as she sat up fully against it. Rachel was standing on her knees, straddling her lap as she cupped her face to continue her assault. Her mouth traced across her cheeks and to her ear, flicking her tongue over it, sucking hard on it when Santana let out an audible gasp. The hands on Rachel's hips pulled down, and Rachel was sitting directly on her erection, she didn't seem to mind, kissing her way down her neck. She started rocking on her lap, the fabric the only thing between them.

Rachel broke away from her then, standing up and pulling down the sweats she'd let her borrow. She'd watched quietly, not expecting the prude, uptight girl in front of her to be the aggressor. Rachel was staring at her tented shorts, expecting the girl in front of her to drop trow. The answer to her question was barely audible in the silent room.

"No one's ever seen it…"

Rachel took off the shirt then, looking Santana directly in the eyes.

"No one's ever seen me either…"

Santana looked at her. She was tiny, but toned and gorgeous and… sexy. She was trying to tell herself how wrong this entire thing was; that she couldn't be caught in a million years with Rachel Berry in her bed. At the same time her penis jumped, apparently eager for the interaction. And she couldn't help but appreciate how good Rachel was making her feel, especially about her insecurities. She didn't open up this way to anyone. It was frightening and exhilarating to her now that she felt comfortable enough to do it with Rachel. She stood too, facing away from Rachel as she removed her shorts. She was wishing that the lights from her backyard illuminating her bedroom would play into her favor as she turned to face her. She tossed her shirt and pulled the messy bun of hair out. She shook her hands through it, her chest rising and falling heavily, her eyes shifting between the bed and her now discarded shorts on the floor. Rachel walked around the bed, her eyes still looking directly into Santana's face. She stood in front of her, pulling her by her fingertips into another soft kiss.

Feeling her skin against her erection made her feel like she was going to blow a load, she shrunk away at the hip, her hands daintily tracing her hip bone, kissing her back with no abandon. Rachel broke the kiss then, maneuvering them so that Santana's knees were pressed against the edge of her bed.

"I've never done…anything like this, Santana. But I really, really want to right now."

Santana didn't stop her from pushing her down onto the bed. Rachel lay next to her, tracing her hands over her breasts, stopping and kissing the scars from her surgery, her sides, her belly button. She got off the bed and settled between Santana's legs on the floor, her carpet comfortable against her knees. She kissed her erection, her swollen, warm lips puckering against the brutally hard organ. She put her into her mouth, swallowing the head, and tentatively sucked in her cheeks.

Santana didn't know what to feel at first. The wetness of her tongue doing circles around the tip of her penis was sending her into fits. The suction of her mouth as she moved above her made her eyes roll into the back of her head. When she looked back down at her, her abdomen tight from holding the position, Rachel took that moment to swallow the entire length of her. She gripped her head in place, emptying herself into the back of her throat. She fell back, hot and sticky, exhausted and elated. She heard Rachel swallow the remnants she had left in her mouth, and she stirred only when the weight of the bed shifted.

Santana could have slept then, and she could have stayed asleep until her therapy session at noon the next day. But she rolled onto her side, draping her arm across Rachel's stomach, letting her hand wander over the maintained hair there, and over her clitoris. Rachel breathed in, biting her lip when Santana started to circle it, dipping down her slit to wet her fingertip and swipe back across the rock hard nub.

"Are you still a virgin?"

Rachel nodded, seemingly too aroused to trust her voice.

Santana fell to the edge of the bed where Rachel had sat moments before. She inhaled her scent, and buried her face inside the canyon of her thighs. She lapped at her clit, her eyes staring intently into Rachel's. She was finally in her element, and no longer vulnerable under the glare of the tiny Jewish girl. She was twirling her tongue around her clit, zigzagging her way down to her opening and shoving the length of her tongue into her opening, rolling it while it was inside of her. Her back arched off the bed, her hips pressing into Santana's face and riding it. She drifted back to her clit, working it in insane combinations, slightly upset that the girl under her was not making a sound. She pushed her finger under her chin and slowly pushed into her. She moaned then, low and guttural; Santana worked both her hand and mouth. She was panting against the sheets, pulling a pillow to her face and screaming into it. Santana felt her g-spot, curling her finger against it as she urged her orgasm out. She bucked finally, a wet, hot liquid squirting and pooling on her chest and leaking down her body. She hadn't expected it, and the look of horror on Rachel's face was priceless. She fell against the bed, covering her blushing face with her palms.

Santana stood, grabbing her tank top and wiping her body down. She wiped the insides of Rachel's thighs and went to her bureau to get another shirt. She pulled on the shorts on the floor, and put the blanket back on the bed. Rachel was so redressing, and they sat beside each other, their backs against the headboard. Rachel's arms crossed over her chest, her hair disheveled and curly, the front of it tucked behind her ears.

"I—"

"That—"

They sat in silence.

"That was hot."

Santana smiled at her as she spoke, and all the tension in the room dissipated.

"Was I …any good?"

Santana shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Best I ever had."

They snuggled under the blankets again, Santana thinking of all the things she could say in the morning to explain away her case of temporary insanity.

End of Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: To those who review: you inspire me.

Chapter 7:

She woke the next morning alone. She could hear the constant hum of the shower in the bathroom; the door open, steam filtering in slowly and misting the room. She snatched the clock next to the bed, noting that it was nearly seven. She remembered Santana mentioning her parents now imminent arrival, so she jumped out of the bed, running over to the vanity in the corner of the room. She pulled her bed flattened hair into a messy pony tail, stealing one of the bands on Santana's desk. She rubbed her face and checked her breath just in time to catch Santana coming from the bathroom; clad in only a sports bra and loose fitting jeans. She handed her towels and went about her room, straightening the mess they'd made the previous night.

She closed the door behind her when she went to the bathroom, turning the shower back on and adjusting the settings. She undressed, folding the borrowed clothes on the closed toilet seat, letting down her hair before stepping into the warm, welcoming shower. She stood under the water, letting her hair get wet enough to detangle itself. She didn't know what to think, or even, how to feel. She'd just had her first sexual experience with someone who'd made her life hell for the past six years. She closed her eyes, rubbing her face as the water cascaded down her body. She felt insecure, embarrassed, and intrigued all at the same time. She couldn't deny how gorgeous the girl in the next room was, or that she oozed sex appeal. But the night before honestly grabbed her by surprise, and for once she didn't try to control anything. Her body felt like liquid electricity when Santana touched her… and that was better than the dull twinge she usually felt when she engaged in intimate activity.

She'd never felt anything mentionable with any of the boys she'd dated. Finn grabbed when he should have caressed, he groped when he should have tugged, and his kisses left passion to her imagination. Jesse was aggressive, possessive and overcompensating. His boastful delusions of grandeur turned her off before his sloppy, predictable kisses ever could. Noah had potential, but Noah scared her. He tried things she wasn't ready for and had a way of getting her to budge on many of her own rules all too easily. While she was curious with him, it was never good enough to make her want more or go further. Kissing Bella had been exhilarating only because it was something different. That unfamiliar spark of attraction only guided her way to the enlightenment of her bisexuality. She wasn't about to admit anything else. But being with Santana was…different. Santana made her wet. She cringed at the word in her head. She made her want to be touched and ache to move forward. It was terrifying; but it was also alluring. She was honestly starting to think she was a lesbian.

She washed quickly, trying her best to keep her mind off how Santana would blow her off when she dropped her home. She kept trying to assuage her fears about the brush off, telling herself that Santana had shared her first time with her, albeit an unconventional deflowering. She knew the girl would probably never admit that it had meant anything to her; or that it ever happened, period. And she didn't expect a sappy, romantic ending to their tryst. But she wouldn't mind continuing their little…experiment. She wanted to feel something, anything; she needed to know what sex felt like—what passion was. She'd ended the naïve feelings of romantic entitlement with Finn; now she only wanted the mutual respect of a proper sexual partner. She shook her head as she turned down the spray. She didn't think Santana Lopez would agree to be her friend with benefits. Her mind was telling her that Santana would probably disagree with the friendship more than with the sexual relationship. She doubted the Cheerio would even talk to her after she took her home, let alone have sex with her. She pulled her towel around her, noting how often she became other people's dirty little secret. She needed it to be on her terms for once.

000 0000 000

"I washed your clothes. Club soda and vinegar got out a lot of that syrup so you can wear them home."

She was fully dressed now, sitting at her vanity applying makeup. She was as nonchalant as she usually was. Rachel grabbed her seemingly spotless clothes from the now made bed, taking them toward the bathroom.

"You can get dressed in here. It's not like I didn't see you naked already."

Santana couldn't see the blush on her cheeks. She dressed quickly; pulling her damp hair back into a ponytail, sitting on her bed and watching the girl apply lip gloss to her plump, full lips.

"Did you sleep at all?"

Santana rolled her eyes, half looking at her in the mirror, half paying too much attention to the last of her makeup.

"Well I woke up around five, realized that I had to clean that wet spot you left on the floor."

She stood up, wiping imaginary lint from her now clean jeans.

"Sorry. That's never happened before—"

"It's cool. My parents are going to be home soon. You can stay for breakfast if you like."

She hadn't expected that. She stood there, at a loss for words.

"I'm not being nice or anything like that; trust. But if I'm not here when my parents get home they'll think I stayed out all night. And if they find out I was rude to a houseguest, well—my mother might pop me. So, Berry, are you staying for breakfast?"

She shifted her weight, nodding at the fresh faced girl sitting at the vanity.

"Cool then."

"Santana, can we talk about last night?"

"What's to talk about, troll?"

"While I do not appreciate the name calling you've just reassured me that it is simply a defense mechanism for when you have nothing else to say—"

"Whatever—"

"I just wanted to know where we stood after the events of last night."

"It was fun, Berry. You gave me a blowjob and I went down on you. As long as we keep this between the two of us, I see nothing we have left to discuss."

"I'm glad you said that, Santana, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to—"

"Please tell me you're not asking me to be your girlfriend, Stubbles."

Rachel frowned.

"Actually I was wondering if we could continue with this… whatever this is."

Santana opened her mouth to speak, closing it back when she realized she had no quirky rebuke. She was about to answer when her door opened, her mother poking her head inside.

"Ana we wanted to know what— Oh hello. How are you?"

The beautiful woman stared between Rachel and Santana, stepping into the room and taking Rachel's hand.

"Ma, this is Rachel Berry, from glee. Rachel, this is my mother Helen. Rachel stayed the night last night, she's staying for breakfast."

She shook Helen's hand.

"Well that's fine; it's a rare occasion Ana has anyone other than Brittany stay over. I was coming to ask Ana what she wanted for breakfast, but since you are our guest, what would you like?"

"Oh I couldn't impose, I'm a vegan, I can just eat toast and – "

"We can all have banana porridge. It's Ana's favorite, she fries her bananas and it crunches!"

They filed out of the room, Helen leading Rachel to the kitchen, too intent on asking her how she prepares her food.

000 0000 000

They left right after breakfast, sitting in the car for a moment before Santana pulled out of her driveway.

"So you want to be fuck buddies?"

"Do you have to be so vulgar?"

Santana shrugged.

"So how would this work?"

"Well, I'd imagine that everything at school stays the same. Well, you could quit calling me names and trying to embarrass me in the hallways."

"Look dwarf, it's in my nature to look down from the top. Get over it, it doesn't bother you that much."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Anyway- I guess we could satisfy each others' needs. I'm sure you have pent up sexual frustrations with no one knowing that you are a hermaphrodite—"

Santana got serious.

"Rule one of we do this, Berry—never call me that. Under no circumstance will you get another warning from me. And Berry—I hit like a dude; so don't try me."

Rachel gulped.

"Very well then. What's the appropriate term?"

"The politically correct term is intersexed. And that term needs not be spoken aloud again."

"Alright. Well. We can just meet up when we are…in the mood."

Santana laughed.

"In the mood? Whatever. So what's off limits?"

"Well what we did last night is allowed. I can't say that I'll be ready for actual penetration anytime soon, but; if it happens I won't be opposed to the idea. What are your terms?"

"We can play it by ear on my end."

Rachel nodded.

"Well, may I ask what all you have done? With anyone I guess?"

"Well, I've given hand jobs, blow jobs, and I've messed around with Brittany but that's about it."

"So, are you open to penetration?"

"Been looking through your Dads' toy chest, Berry?"

"Rule number one, Santana, no insults when we aren't in school. Answer the question."

She sighed heavily.

"I never thought about it honestly. I didn't think a guy would want to have sex with someone who has a penis. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"Fair enough. My house is the one with the white—"

"I know Berry, I've egged your house a few dozen times."

She smiled playfully at the girl in the passenger seat, as she pulled into her driveway.

"Don't you have therapy today?"

Santana nodded.

"Well, my parents won't be home until later, you want to go in together?"

Santana shrugged, unbuckling her seat belt.

"I have to call Brittany first. Haven't talked to her in forever."

Rachel climbed out of the car, walking to her door with a nonchalant Santana.

"Will she be upset that you're with me?"

"Berry we don't roll like that. She's my best friend. And besides, Britt loves everybody, even though I won't tell her that we are like- hanging out."

"Well, why not? Like you said, she's your best friend."

"True, but she also says what's on her mind…all the time. I'd rather her not blurt out that I boned Rachel Berry during glee practice."

Santana sat on the couch as they entered the living room, propping her feet on the table.

"Now woman! Go make me a sammich! I wants me a grilled cheese."

Rachel rolled her eyes, knocking her legs off the table with her knees and she sat down beside her.

"Didn't you just eat? And ask me properly."

"I'm always hungry, and I just don't want you all in my grill while I'm on the phone."

Rachel rolled her eyes again, standing with her arms crossed while she walked to the kitchen.

She pressed the number three on her cell phone, holding it long enough for it to automatically dial the number. Brittany answered it on the fourth ring, probably because she'd misplaced her phone again.

"Hey, S. What's up?"

"Hey didn't hear from you since like—two days ago!"

"Yea my date went really well."

Santana smiled.

"That's rare. Dish the dirt."

"Well I would but I'm actually still on my date, can I call you when I get home later?"

Santana was shocked. Not many high school guys could swing a sleepover. But then again Santana didn't bother with the guys from Carmel. She rolled her eyes. Saying goodbye to her best friend as Rachel brought her a glass of water.

"We don't have any cheese."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"So when will your pops come home?"

"Well Dad is in Cincinnati for an X-Files convention, and Daddy will be home from work in time to pick me up from therapy."

Santana shook her head, running her fingertips up and down the other girl's arm.

"How do you normally get to Marian's office?"

"The bus."

"What do your dads do?"

"Well Dad is a lawyer and Daddy is an art dealer."

Santana shook her head, drifting toward Rachel's neck as she began to kiss her there.

"So do you squirt every time you come?"

Rachel's eyes fluttered closed.

"Th-That's never happened before so I don't know."

"MMMhmmm"

She began unbuttoning Rachel's jeans, tucking her hand into them, and brushing her fingers under her underwear.

"Well, let's test it out then?"

"Just…not on the couch."

Rachel stood and walked up the stairs.

"Can you just be spontaneous at least once!"

Santana sighed, throwing her hands up as she obediently followed Rachel.

000 0000 000

**A/N: I was going to write the smut but that's for next chapter (****). There will be angst ahead. Brittany's date will be revealed and a mystery character (a Glee member) will find out Rachel and Santana's secret. I will be fast- forwarding next chapter to after the Rocky Horror episode, and it will be AU from there since I will not wait the two weeks for Never Been Kissed to air. The Finn and Santana sex thing will be revealed to Rachel soon also. There will be a lack of doctor scenes as we get into the story, and a few more bumps in the road. Will update soon. Please Read and Review. **

**I also have two stories that are handwritten that I will be posting soon. One is a Hurt/Comfort Rachel/Puck kidnap story; the other is a Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy (no character deaths) with a Rachel/Santana friendship. That being said I will be running out of ideas, so maybe you guys can help. **

**I want to write prompts that fans of my stories want to read, so please send some (PM) and I'll get writing. Anything's welcome, and I love challenges! It's a good way to try other genres for me and you guys would really be feeding my creativity. I'll even make it a contest—top three good prompts will be the next I write. One shot, kink, trigger, smut or character study Anything really. **

**And to all my Perseverance readers: **

**I haven't abandoned my story. I have handwritten that one also, and I am waiting for the ending (the next chapter I post will be the last) to come willingly. So don't fret. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to those of you who have been reviewing from Chapter 1 until now. This chapter is hopefully a peak into the intimate nature of the relationship between Rachel and Santana. It may seem like they are moving fast, but I'm going off the fact that these two are basically deprived of human touch and they are exploring their sexuality together. There may only be three or four chapters after this…it will deal with the upcoming surgery and the status of their relationship. Please, read and review. **

Chapter 8

It was Monday night. Their limbs were tangled together, a dewy mist gleaming over their exerted, naked bodies. They lay in Santana's bed, Rachel's hair fanned across her shoulder, the kiss of cold air hardening her still rigid nipples. Her parents had left the house a mere forty minutes before, saying goodnight to their daughter and her now too familiar houseguest. Santana noticed the week before that their time together was getting too personal; alarmingly too intimate. They would lounge together in the aftermath of their sexual activity, Santana trailing lines that goose bumped the arm of her sexual partner.

She never told her to go home. Rachel was an eager, inquisitive bedmate, and they would cuddle on top of blankets, sometimes playing with each other's fingers or talking about things Santana never had the courage to speak aloud. Tonight, she was combing her fingers through Rachel's hard, massaging small circles into her scalp, answering her lazy questions halfheartedly, thinking about napping.

"What does it feel like? To be inside someone?"

"I wouldn't know. I've only been inside someone fingers deep."

"I know, but you will find out, eventually…"

"Oooh, Rachel you're giving me hints; should I go buy condoms?"

Rachel rolls her eyes, pulling to her side, resting her head on her open palm.

"You should always be prepared, Santana."

Santana smirked, cocking her eyebrow at the nymph in front of her.

"I bet it feels warm. And wet. Inviting maybe, or insufferably tight."

"I see you've been thinking about it."

Santana shrugged.

"I've been tempted. You'd be lying if you haven't at least thought about it one time since we've been doing this."

"It seems like we've been doing this forever; but not in a bad way."

"Stop trying to change the subject. Have you; thought about it I mean?"

"Of course I have, Santana. I'm curious, and its natural, to have that ache to be filled I guess. Do you have both needs?"

Santana twirled a few strands of her hair between her fingers.

"I guess. Sometimes I want to be inside you like my life depends on it. Other times I want you to fill me up with something; anything. There hasn't been a time yet that I've wanted both at the same time."

Rachel nodded her head, taking in the information like a sponge.

"I love the breeze. It's funny you always leave your window open, even when it's cold. I could just fall asleep like this."

"Well, we have all day tomorrow, to sleep I mean—no school remember?"

Santana tugged at her waist.

"Oh yea- voting day. Well, I have to do homework, and I have dance class at four—"

Rachel complied; pulling her leg over Santana's hip and rolling into an upright position, straddling her lap.

"We can study here, and I'll drop you off at dance class."

Rachel kissed her then, pecking tiny kisses full onto her lips, slowly deepening soon after, sliding her tongue into her mouth. Rachel was rubbing dangerously against her hardening penis, the intentional circles were lighting firecrackers behind Santana's hooded eyes.

"Do you think you'll let me do it?"

She stopped kissing Santana, sitting back on her lap; flush against her erection.

"It's only been two weeks… I've thought about it a lot and I—I wouldn't mind if it happened. It would just have to feel right."

Santana grabbed her breast, kneading it softly before leaning forward to kiss her. She was sitting hard between her legs, her hand silently joining the other before they came to rest on the top of her backside. She squeezed, rubbing herself between the other girls heat, pleased that residue of her arousal was streaked across her penis.

"We may never get the chance to make it perfect Rachel…"

"Why can't you ever call me that at school? I love the way you say it…"

They were rocking together, Santana thrusting her hips forward to try to sop up the wet.

"It would be too out of the ordinary, people see me talking to you—who knows what they'll think."

"They'll think we are friends. We _are_ kind of friends, you know?"

"That's all fine and dandy, I'm just nervous they'll think I've gone soft, and I need my rep."

"What for? What's the point of everyone being afraid of you? No one gets close enough to the real you. I mean given you're rude, crass, violent and hormonal; but you're also sweet, intellectual, and complex."

"That rep does the job. People don't go poking their noses in my business. They don't ask questions about what I really am? I don't need all that."

Rachel shrugged.

"Well, I like you, and I don't judge you…even though I know 'what'", she air quoted the words, 'you are."

"Whatever, Rach, you don't like me; you like what I do to you."

"How do you figure?"

Santana returned to her back, her hands still playing with Rachel's breasts.

"You love that I make you feel something. You love being in control, but when you really get a chance to lose it, you lose it with me. You know me on a sexual level. You like the fact that I can make your body respond; because for a long time you thought there'd be no stars behind your eyelids."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"I know that I like you, Santana. I like laying in bed together when we talk. You tell me stories from when you were younger and things you want to do in the future. You talk to me about Brittany, and how close you two are. You talk to me about what you only think about in your head, Santana, and I know that no one else knows that."

"Bullshit—"

"No I'm serious. I think you like it too. You like me too. You can't talk to anyone else about having to tuck yourself into your underwear, or show me pictures of you when you were younger and couldn't do a lot of the things everyone else did. Sometimes you kiss me with your eyes closed. It stopped being sex after that third day into it. I know this isn't just anything to you…"

"After the third day? What happened that made me run into your open arms?"

"When you realized that you were okay that Brittany had found someone she really liked. You started liking me a little more because you knew she'd be okay with Tiffany."

"Why do you have to overanalyze everything? I was horny, Rachel, Britt's off limits so I sent you a text. That's the agreement we have, Rach. Your terms remember?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Just admit that you like me, that you're okay being this way with me."

"You prove it means something, Berry."

Rachel looked at her, trying to gage how serious she was about her dare. She started kissing her, rocking dangerously on her lap before Santana flipped them over, hovering over her, staring her purposely in the eyes. She felt the tip of her penis poke at her entrance, Rachel breathing heavily beneath her. She was teetering dangerously at her opening, any sudden movement could land her inside of Rachel Berry. Rachel opened her mouth to speak, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips.

"What the fuck?"

They hadn't heard him slip through the open window, standing bemused at the two naked girls in his Monday night hookup's bed.

Rachel scrambled from beneath her, struggling to grab a sheet as she rolled off the bed. Santana stood, her palms facing flat as she waved off Puck's initial shock.

"Puck just—chill."

He look her in the eye before darting down to her half erect penis, and back to her face again.

"You're a—you're a dude! I let a dude suck me off? Oh my gosh I think I'm going to puke!"

He made wrenching noises, dry heaving as his body jerked from his spasming stomach. She grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around her naked body, and walking over to him.

"Puck it's really not what you think. Just calm down."

He backed away from her, pushing his hands out as he stumbled over one of her discarded books on the floor.

"I swear, dude, if you come near me I'm going to seriously kick you in the nuts." 

She backed away, her chest heaving and falling as the boy in front of her panicked. Rachel had emerged from her bunker behind the bed, the thin sheet tied toga style around her body.

"Noah, Santana's not a boy, it's just a; it's just a strap-on."

"Bullshit! I can't believe I let a dude…ugh—I let a dude—"

He threw up into her trashcan then, Santana threw her arms up, walking over to the bed and plopping down ungracefully, her head in her hands. Rachel walked over to Puck, offering her hand out for him to stand. He took it with hesitation, flinching as she walked him over to Santana.

"Santana you might as well tell him the truth…"

000 0000 000

They all sat around the dining room table, Puck sitting with his hands in his lap in front of the baby book sitting in front of him. He was finally calming down from his rant, taking Santana seriously only when she showed him her official birth certificate. Rachel had gotten him a glass of water, and she sat quietly beside him while he processed the information.

"So…you're not a dude…you just have dude parts; but they're going to cut them off? And then you'll be all girl?"

"Yes, Puck."

"So—I didn't have oral sex with a dude?"

"No Puck."

"Alright cool."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"You're not going to tell anybody right?"

"And let them think I slept with a dude—no way."

"So you will never bring this up again?"

"Nope, I'm good. I'd rather not be the butt of that joke."

Rachel rolled her eyes then.

"So you two are together—that's weird. Can I watch?"

"No Puck, you can't watch. And no, we aren't together."

"Wait—you're tellin' me that you got into Berry's pants, before Broadway and a ring—bravo Lopez."

"I am right here, Noah—please don't be rude."

"Whatever. I'm going home. I need to like—jack off to some playboy so I know my junk won't fall off from fear." 

"Remember, Puck, no one knows about any of this. Not anyone on the Cheerios, not anyone on the football team, not Britt, not Finn—no one."

"I got it, I got it. And Lopez, don't expect me on Monday's anymore. I um—I'll be elsewhere."

000 0000 000

The greatest force in the universe is gossip. It seeps through the crevices of every institution known to man. High school is no exception. Brittany was the talk of the school, the first openly gay Cheerio in history. There were no slushys, there were no pranks, or violent words exchanged. To be honest, no one really dared cross the blonde whenever she was in Santana's presence. They walked, pinkies linked down hallways, making their usual rounds before class. She walked past Rachel, making a comment about how her sweater looked like walking road kill. Rachel just shrugged her off, bouncing annoyingly down the hall toward the last class of the day.

She had been ignoring Rachel in the hallways, and she made a point not to speak to Noah in public. It was Thursday, and glee would come and go in a blur. All she could think about was how slowly her secrets would come forward, and somehow she'd be the talk of McKinely High. She stayed behind at the end of glee, saying goodbye to Brittany as she got ready to head to her girlfriend's house.

She watched Rachel gather her things, arranging them according to folder, and slipping it into her heavy roller bag. Santana cleared her throat.

"I was thinking about what you said the other day. Maybe—maybe we could find out what it feels like…together?"

Rachel nodded, brushing past Santana and walking out to her car. That night would be the night; she was sure.

End of Chapter 8

**A/N: I am ending it here because you have to read Rachel's reaction to all this…and all the other things they've gotten themselves into over the past two weeks. Reviews are welcome and the give me inspiration. Thinking about posting my other story today…don't know how it will all play out. **


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So I've decided not to put a cap on how many chapters I crank out for the this story since it seems to be writing itself. Short chapter with a little Pezberry smut toward the end. Angst and sap and all that other stuff ahead. Read and Review, and I'll see about posting two a days more often.

Oh and to SilentInformer: The fact that you leave me lovely comments for each chapter makes my day.

To Tinythunder— I swear you swell my ego more than necessary but it gives me the courage to post the edgier stuff that I put up—thanks.

To DEB—you were around since chapter one—feels nice to know I'm keeping you entertained.

Chapter 9

They'd spent every day together for two weeks. Her fathers didn't mind. They were actually happy she was putting herself out there to make friends. The fact that no one knew what they were doing was so thrilling that she ached to be defiant the next day; and the next and so on. Things hadn't changed at school at all. Their tango becoming this game they played before nightfall, when Santana's parents would go to work and she would wait by the bus stop to get picked up by the black shifty two door coup.

She felt like she was on a clandestine mission to rendezvous with her lover. She was so curious, so open to new experiences that the titles didn't matter; and neither did the recognition. She didn't need to be someone's girl, she didn't need for the entire school to know who she was with; or why. Dating Finn she made that mistake. It was like walking proof that someone worth something at that school saw something in her. She didn't need the gossip; the lies, breaking up relationships and sullying reputations. She didn't need it at all. And now she was getting what she'd wanted on a level she'd never began to imagine. She knew the qualms of having sex at her age, she knew all too well from Quinn's dilemma. She knew she wanted it to be special; and with someone she cared immensely about; if not someone she loved. And she realized with the end of her last relationship that love may take too long—and she won't live forever waiting on that special someone who might never come along. She wanted to experience this—this wick that had been lit the moment she kissed Santana. She hadn't even registered why she'd kissed the girl in the first place. But she had, and it set off a chain reaction of want that she'd never experienced before.

And then it got deeper. The sex wasn't a need, laying afterward in stolen kisses and whispered words under the breeze from her open window. 'What's your favorite color?', or 'What do you want to be when you grow up', and just recently, 'What would make your life worth living if you couldn't live the life you wanted to?', all question asked in the dark. They were slowly getting to know each other, discovering acceptance between themselves and night light, curled in each other's post coital bliss. It was terrifying to know that one of her arch enemies would turn out to be one of her biggest allies. She often found herself telling all her secrets to Santana, unwavering in the knowledge that she could trust the girl that writhed beneath her.

And it had only been two weeks. Two full weeks of constant interaction. Every free moment they had, they spent together. Santana would call after she parted from Brittany, or text on her way home. She would let her know when dance class was over; and miraculously Santana would be waiting for her when she walked out. They'd gone through so many firsts in that short period of time that she'd been thinking about giving her something she'd been keeping to herself until it felt right to give it away. If it wasn't special with her; it wouldn't be with anyone else. She was discovering how to be herself with Santana, and Santana was learning how not to be the perpetuation of what everyone else wanted her to be.

She knew she was falling for the girl the moment she'd come to pick her up, happy that her best friend had finally found someone worthy of her time. They'd gone back to her house and they had sex; but it was so much different from the other times. There wasn't only need. There was acceptance. There was admiration and appreciation. There wasn't love—that was true. But there was hope that what they had wouldn't go to waste. She'd tasted her for the first time, that night, the musky scent filling her senses and taking her breath away. She'd kissed every crevice of her skin, head to foot and she did so in return. And they'd danced between those sheets, the breeze from her open window raising her skin with song to meet Santana's melody… and that night she sung ballads of passion and trust. She didn't have to dodge insults in that bedroom, she didn't have to shy away from how she really felt on that bed, and neither did Santana. And they'd bonded over that simple fact, in so few days—Rachel knew she felt at least an inkling of something towards the girl, and that her feelings were at least partially met.

The night Noah climbed through that window she was so embarrassed. But not because she was ashamed of what she was doing. She wasn't ready for someone like him to see her that way—naked, intimate, and vulnerable. She was glad they could keep their secret quiet, if only for a while longer. The extra attention would probably dissolve their affair, and it would dissipate forgotten with yesterday's news. She hadn't expected Santana to pull her aside the following Thursday with her proposition, words went unspoken as they drove to her house. She ate dinner with her family, sitting around the table talking about mundane things and work, and school. To be honest her heart was raging in her chest, pounding a thousand beats per second toward every moment that inched closer to their being alone.

They left soon after, kissing their daughter goodnight and hugging Rachel—the girl with such a good influence on their potty mouthed daughter—who often got away with speaking that way because she did so well at everything she took on. She walked quietly to her bedroom, sitting softly down on the freshly made bed, smoothing out already wrinkle free sheets. She soon joined her, brushing her hair away from her neck and kissing the soft skin there. Santana kissed her for eons, trailing small pecks of her lip gloss along her shoulder, her collarbone, her heart. She pulled her shirt away from her, then her bra; rolling down the loose fitting jeans she had on. Santana undressed herself then, pulling back her sheets and urging Rachel to climb under. She clapped off her lights and snuggled next to the naked girl beside her.

"We don't have to, you know… I was just talking trash."

Rachel looked at her in the moonlight, noting how terrified and unsure she looked. She kissed her lips then, pulling her on top of her, kissing her softly anywhere she could reach. She smiled a shaky smile before letting out a rugged breath, trailing kisses down the apex of Rachel's thighs. She settled there, kissing every part of her sex before plunging her tongue into the heat that invited her. And she moaned, Rachel whimpered against her ministrations and urged her to continue, feeling the tingle build deep inside her. And she only noticed she'd been screaming her name in broken syllables when she came, flooding Santana with the scent of her arousal.

And in an instant she was back at her side, rubbing small circles into her taunt stomach, watching her come down from her aroused euphoria. She kissed her lips as she towered over her somewhat shivering body, preparing to enter her—anyone, for the first time.

"Do you have protection?"

Santana kissed her lips, rubbing her stiff erection against her inner thigh.

"It's impossible for me to get you pregnant, Rachel."

She nodded, gripping Santana's penis with shaking hands she guided her inside. She closed her eyes as Santana began to rotate her hips, slowly pushing past barriers to be inside of her. She could only grimace, the full burning sensation a reminder of the novice nature of their coupling, inexperienced and fumbling. She was sheathed completely inside of her for two entire minutes before Rachel told her it was okay to move.

"You feel …so tight."

The words danced on her neck as Santana maintained a slow, steady rhythm, gripping her hips as she pulled out, grimacing when she pushed back inside. Rachel hadn't quite adjusted to the feeling, angling her hips up to cushion the pressure of Santana's thrusts.

"Ugh…Oh my gosh I'm not going to last you feel so …oh my gosh I think I'm going to come."

The muffled words finally registered to Rachel, she lifted her head up to meet her eyes. Kissing the girl who was grinding into her now easing body.

"Just don't think about it. Don't think about how it feels just…concentrate on something else."

She began thrusting more confidently into her, her strokes hitting something deep within her, rubbing at a particular ribbed bundle of nerves. She was starting to enjoy the feeling when Santana rolled them both over, her endurance proving weak after only a mere four minutes of the sexual act. She was trying her best not to finish before Rachel had gotten off.

Rachel on the other hand was adjusting to the overwhelming feeling of being completely impaled with her girlfriend's rigid penis. She didn't move, whimpering against the Cheerios chest as she began to move her already aching thighs. She moved slowly, lifting herself up on her partner, falling uncertainly to the hilt and rolling her hips to rub her clit. She repeated it, Santana throwing her head back as she got used to the clenching heat enveloping her. They rocked that way for a while, Rachel finding that she controlled the tempo of their lovemaking—if she could call it that. She was shaking with anticipation at what would happen, the warmth bubbling in her gut and catching in her throat was throwing her off. The bottoms of her feet were burning and tingling with a desire she had yet to experience. She was ready for whatever came, especially if it was her. Santana was thrusting upward into her at an alarming speed, her abdomen tightening and loosening which each thrust, the sweat on her forehead showing all the exertion of her efforts.

Rachel was screaming, yelling louder than she could ever remember, and falling hard onto Santana's chest with a thud louder than the noise Santana was currently making with the meeting of their hips. She grunted her response, the feeling of her penis stretching and emptying into her was one of the weirdest and most satisfactory things she had ever experienced. They lay there, crumpled and panting, sweat drenching the sheets beneath them as they slept; Santana slipping out of her moments later.

000 0000 000

They left for school together the following morning, smiles plastered on their faces as Santana dropped Rachel off two blocks before getting to WMHS. She parked her car and met up with Brittany, linking pinkies as they walked into the school. The halls were whispering mere moments later when Rachel trudged in, the slushy dripping off her clothes. She stomped down the hallway, walking straight toward Santana, stopping in her tracks as she shouted at the Cheerio.

"Right before Finn called me a dyke and slushied me, he told me it was okay that I cheated on him—because he cheated on me first when he told me he wasn't a virgin. And do you know surprised I was to find that you were his first! HIS FIRST! How stupid I was! You can have him."

And she stomped off, rushing to the nearest locker room to shower and change. Santana stood them, staring between the spot Rachel had left on the floor and where she had gone to. She knew she couldn't run after the diva, as it would probably ruin her reputation and out their little relationship. She stepped over the stained floor, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder before heading to Spanish. She'd text Rachel like she normally did after school, and she'd hash the truth out then.

Hopefully that would happen; she thought as she took her seat, sending her a text before class started.

"_Meet me at the bleachers during lunch—I have to tell you the truth." _

She closed her phone and doodled on her notebook, too many stars aligning the margins.

End of Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Just a short update. Please take into account that these two have had dozens of conversations that were intimate and not shown in the story. Thank you to those who lurked in the shadows until now, coming forward with signed reviews. They are appreciated.

Santana had turned the corner only seconds before she heard her name being screamed from blocks away. Finn ran to catch up to her, holding a big gulp in his mitten covered hands.

"Hey, Rach, can I talk to you for a sec?"

She stopped, scanning her surroundings before nodding at her ex-boyfriend.

"Look Rach—I know I've been a jerk to you lately but I was just mad. And when everybody found out you'd gotten with a girl, I was just so …embarrassed. The guys wouldn't stop hounding me about how I wasn't man enough and how my girlfriend left me for a chick. I just lost my cool and I needed my space. And I didn't even know what they were planning at the bowling alley—I wouldn't have let them do it if I had."

He stopped rambling long enough to rub the back of his neck, his cheeks burning red more from shame than the brisk air.

"Look, Rachel, I know it was a mistake and maybe we can give us a try again?"

She looked at him incredulously, pulling her hand to her hip.

"I never claimed that it was a mistake, Finn. I did it because I wanted to and I'd appreciate it if you don't assume that I will just crawl back into your arms—again!"

She turned to walk away, stopped by the hand that darted to out to pull at her bent elbow.

"So you're gay now? That's it?"

"What I am is none of your concern, Finn, now let go of me!"

He was looking at her with that imbecile look on his face.

"Come on Rachel, we both know that's not true."

She snatched her arm away from his grip then, angry that he was being so dismissive. 

"I'll have you know, Finn, that I am actually seeing someone right now and I am quite happy with the progress of our relationship."

He was smirking at her.

"Who is it then? I'm sure there aren't any single lesbians at McKinley—"

"You don't have to worry about that, Finn—"

"It's because there isn't anyone, come on, I'll walk you to school."

She flinched away from him, upset that he was trying to force the issue.

"I have no reason to lie about this, Finn, let alone to _you_."

He backed away from her, suddenly angry.

"So you're a dyke now, Rach? Whatever."

"Don't ever call me that again!"

"Why, what are you going to do? Sick your imaginary girlfriend on me?"

There was a group of lettermen jackets approaching them from a few blocks away.

"It doesn't matter anyway, Rach. It wasn't like I stayed honest either."

She flinched away from him, as if slapped.

"What does that mean?"

"I was just waiting until you put out. It's cool, I could easily go back to Santana again if that's all I'm looking for."

She furrowed her brow.

"What are you talking about?"

"It means that I had sex with Santana—so run back to your fake girlfriend for all I care."

The lettermen jackets had sauntered up to Finn, egging him on about throwing the slushy at Rachel. He looked so angry, angry enough to cry, but he threw it at her anyway, walking away from her while the hockey players patted his back. She stood, shivering where she stood; first wondering why Finn would be drinking a big gulp in fifty degree weather. In the seconds later she grew livid.

The logical part of her brain was telling her that Finn was obviously lying, that he was aiming to hurt her feelings. But he didn't know about her and Santana, he didn't know how much something like that would hurt her, especially since the night before. She knew she shouldn't let the obvious lie bother her as much as it was at that moment. Her mind was racing with thoughts of why he'd say it; why he would bring Santana's name into their conversation like some wildcard he'd been holding without her knowledge. Santana had never gone into detail about who she messed around with, and Rachel knew if she probed she'd probably get honest answers. She knew that Santana was far from innocent; but she also knew that she was also a virgin. She knew if Finn and Santana did have sex, he would have known her dirty little secret. And if he did he would probably assume that no one else knew either. And maybe Santana had done this all before. Maybe she was just using her for sex. It had happened before to her—the humiliation of being played for a fool in front of the entire school. She felt outraged, disappointed and melancholy all at the same time. She was speeding toward the High school, making a beeline to Santana's locker.

000 0000 000

She hadn't expected Rachel to actually show up at the bleachers during their lunch hour but she did. Santana thanked the Gods for Rachel's easily forgiving nature as she sat down quietly beside her.

"I didn't know if you'd gotten my text… I know your phone probably got wet—"

"I buy prepaid cell phones and switch out the cards…it's easier to just bejewel them instead of buying nice things to have them destroyed."

They were quiet for a while, before she opened her mouth to speak, Rachel interrupted.

"Why should I believe anything you are about to say?"

Santana was immediately offended.

"And why should you believe anything that Finnocence told you?"

"You aren't helping your case, Santana."

She rolled her eyes as Rachel began to speak.

"I'm used to getting my hopes up only to crash with the let down. I'm used to the slushy facials and the back handed insults. I'm so used to the practical jokes and the harassment. I've even gotten used to the constant embarrassment. I don't know what to think anymore—I'm just so tired of never being able to let my guard down."

"I can't believe you actually believe him over me! I mean true I did some messed up shit to you in the past—but I do messed up shit to everybody! I didn't have sex with him, Rachel. Given we fooled around but I didn't do what we did last night with anyone other than you; ever. And what I did do with Finn was at Sue's orders—for my reputation. Call me stupid for wanting to keep my rep—but don't accuse me of lying to you because I didn't."

"When did it happen?"

It was a quiet question, one she wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

"It happened way before you and the jolly green giant got together that's for damn sure. And I gave him a blow job—that's it; not that it matters. Why does everybody point to me when something goes wrong? When their boyfriends go missing? And you of all people," she shook her head, "I don't even know why I care; this was your stupid arrangement, not mine."

She stood, stopping only when Rachel pulled her hand down toward her.

"But you _do_ care?"

"Isn't it obvious, Rachel? I came here to make amends for something that you shouldn't even be upset over. You got mad because you thought I hadn't told you the truth when you're the only person who knows anything true about me. Why would I mess that up?"

She sat back down, leaning her elbows on her bent knees, her head sideways, eyes staring directly into hers.

"Sex isn't dating Rachel. But sometimes I honestly want this little friends with benefits to be something else."

"Santana… you're not going to ask me to be your girlfriend now are you?"

Santana smiled.

"Of course not. But can we just do us… and stop worrying about everything else?"

"What does that mean?"

"I'll be honest with you. I still don't want the entire school to know what's going on in my life. We can deal with all the titles and the official stuff after the surgery."

"You're surgery is in June, though, isn't that a long time to hide this?"

She shrugged.

"We were doing fine this week—and I love coming up with insults to throw at you when I pass by your locker in between classes."

She smiled at her.

"They don't sting that much now that I know you really just have a crush on me."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Whatever Berry. We have to come up with a way to get back at Finn."

"I don't engage in plots of revenge."

"Bullshit you don't! He isn't going to get away with this."

"What do you suppose we do?"

Santana smiled a knowing smile, and Rachel knew that she was in store for something devious.

A/N: I'm updating like I'm supposed to. Next chapter deals with the plot to bring Finn down a few pegs. Also- Pezberry lemons: new positions (I'm evil) and all kinds of fun smut.

Read and Review.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! My birthday was last week and I partied like a rock star from Monday to Monday. This update is still set in the AU universe…however a few things that happened in Never Been Kissed will be disregarded or otherwise changed. **

**The double date with Santana, Puck, Brittany and Artie obviously didn't happen. Any shipper moments between Rachel and Finn are defunct. **

**To my Reviewers:**

**Rebecca: Thanks for the review! I was hoping people didn't read this and think it was a big load of crap. But your review seriously made me smile.**

**Kikky: Finn's reaction is already written, I won't spoil it. **

**LittleRuki: This will not be a pregnant Rachel story. I have only seen it done tastefully once, and there is already too much going on in this fic to add it—so no worries.**

**Bladed Darkness: Welcome to the story—hope you're enjoying the progress. **

**Just me: I love that you are loving this story. **

**: I'm glad my smut is hot—I was convinced that I made it confusing but the review cleared that up for me. Thanks.**

**Jessie: welcome to the wonderful world of Pezberry. Someone made me a fan once… but I won't say because then you guys will totally fall in love with her stories and forget all about mine. (a.k.a. go check my favorites). **

**Hope: I have something wonderful in store for you soon then! **

**To those not mentioned here—thank you dearly for the lovely reviews. **

**WARNING: DISCRIPTIVE SMUT AHEAD!**

Chapter 11:

The following two weeks whizzed by with excessive activity. They'd gotten through Halloween, Rocky Horror, her first sectional cheer competition and midterms. With their busy schedules, they saw each other sporadically, and sex was often out of the question due to the vigorous study schedules they shared. Rachel came to her house over the weekend, surprisingly relieved that Finn and Amy Bradshaw, a Cheerio, were dating. They talked quickly about their weeks respectively, and tried to come up with better ideas with the revenge plot involving Finn. When they could find none, they went back to the mountains of work that had piled up since their secret liaison had started, which was now almost a month ago.

The two weeks that went by were also a constant reminder of Santana's now raging libido. With their constantly conflicting schedules, practice, cheer camp and Rachel's community theater project—she was staring as Maureen in the Rent production—they'd had little to no time to squeeze in some action. It had honestly been the longest time Santana had went with engaging in any sexual conduct, and she was actually priding herself on not letting her eye wander; not that her and Berry were exclusive or anything.

The weekend ended too soon, as it usually did, and she found herself face to face with Quinn Fabray after morning practice—a constant reminder that Cheer completion season was about to start and her three times a week two a days would take most of the enthusiasm out of the sport. They'd been cordial to one another since the catfight, and she'd been ordered by Sue to stay by her side and keep her eyes open as she usually did. They didn't talk unless it was extremely necessary, so this was one of the first times the blonde had approached her when Brittany wasn't at her side.

"Can I help you, Tubbers?"

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Where's Britt?"

Santana sighed.

"She cut today—she and Tiffany are doing something at the zoo. Why?"

"No reason. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Since when did we make up?"

Quinn rolled her eyes again then, moving her hand to her hip she stared unbelievingly at Santana.

"Come on, San. We both know the rules. You're the hyena…I'm the snake. You do the dirty work in the canyon…I keep mine in the garden. I needed my spot back; I got it back, we can go back to how things were. You know how this works. We're friends again, easy as that."

Santana sighed, not caring to actually fight the blonde and her humungous ego. She hated the pettiness, but knew better than to let on to her discomfort with the situation.

"What do you want?"

"That's much better, S. I need your help with a … boy problem. Sam said Beiste's name when we were making out. I'm guessing he has a thing for ugly trolls or something; anyway, I can't get it off my back—and I don't know what I should do to…placate him."

Santana laughed.

"Why are you guys still just making out? Suck him off. Stop being such a prude." She shrugged. "Why don't you go ask Coach Sylvester, I'm sure she'll tell you how to act."

She walked off, slamming her locker shut and sauntering off to her first period class. She waited around for the bell to ring, too bored to show up to class early, listening to the conversation Sam was having with Mike. She smiled when she heard him explain that he and Finn had been thinking about Beiste when they needed to "cool down", the smile spreading on her lips before she could stop it.

000 0000 000

She got home twenty minutes after her parents had left for the night shift. She texted Rachel to tell her she'd pick her up from the theater, and made her way back to her car. Rachel stood outside, pulling her winter jacket around herself to keep from freezing. She got into the car without hesitation, closing the door without slamming it and rubbing her hands in front of the radiator.

"I thought you'd be tired after cheer practice."

Santana shrugged.

"Not today, felt like we haven't hung out in forever."

Rachel nodded.

Santana fiddled with the radio, choosing to leave it on a low volume, knowing anything louder would result in one of Rachel's impromptu sing alongs.

"We set a date this week…for the surgery. June 29th."

The car was eerily quiet over the whisper of the radio.

"Do you think you'll miss it?"

Santana opened her mouth to speak, closing it again when she couldn't decide on a definitive answer.

"What; my dick?"

She chuckled to herself, turning to see that Rachel was definitely not laughing.

"I'm being serious!" She slapped Santana's shoulder playfully, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms in her seat.

"I'm playing around Rachel; I don't know. I mean, it's never served a purpose before, I'm just getting used to it actually working. I guess…knowing what I know now—yea, I'll probably miss it. Especially if they can't use it to fix up my lady parts."

"Then why go through with the surgery at all?" 

Santana pulled over, turning off the engine before turning to look at Rachel.

"It's something I've always wanted. Before all this I just wanted to be a girl. I wanted to be able to use the locker room showers, and wear a bikini to the beach. I always wanted to pee sitting down. It's just something I've been waiting for since forever."

"I mean true, there are things you can't do, Santana. But some of those are the things you can't do because you don't allow yourself to. But there are so many things you can do too. Having a penis doesn't make you any less of girl."

Santana was chuckling into her hands, her hair tumbling around her shoulders.

"Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds Rachel? Having a penis makes me a boy. That's how I feel sometimes. And while you must think it's great that I can play for both teams simultaneously; I don't. I'm tired of hiding things from people, not being able to be myself—"

"Santana you're the only one who wants to hide. You're the only one who doesn't let people see the real you. I know about your condition. I'm sure that if you told the people close to you about it—there would be no problems. Noah doesn't seem any different toward you, and you know how I feel."

"I don't know how you feel, not about this…"

And it was quiet again.

"I know I like you. I know I like all of you, very much. I think the surgery is unnecessary and dangerous. I know that it was something you wanted before you knew what it feels like to be alive…I know that you feel how I felt—when that part of me was finally acknowledged. I know that the awakening of those…types of feelings makes you second guess your original decision."

"Look, Rachel. I like you too. And I get where you're coming from. I'm just. Nothing is ever guaranteed. I don't want to put my faith in the fact that other people won't judge or ridicule me. I can't take that torture."

"I do every single day. And you know why I never let it get me down? I don't let it get me down because I know that it's only high school. I know that most of the people in high school leading the pack are either cowards or idiots—too scared or too stupid to realize that there are many things bigger to think about. And that the world is bigger than insecure egos and petty reputations."

Santana started the car, trying not to bite her lip hard enough to break skin.

"Are you hungry?"

Rachel just nodded.

000 0000 000

Barb's Diner was located on the intersecting blocks of Fifth and Main, on the northeast corner of Lima's busiest district. The shoddy, worn diner was home to many of Lima's older residents, most of the high school aged kids were too cool to frequent the high traffic eatery. They pulled into the lot, choosing to forgo the busy Breadstix restaurant down the street for a place they'd most likely be overlooked. They slid into the booth, noticing the mini jukebox at their table, a change machine that exchanged dollars for quarters next to it.

The waitress was a charming middle aged woman, who tucked her extra pencil behind her ear and popped her bright pink bubble gum in between sentences. Rachel ordered the only vegan alternative on the menu while Santana opted for the pizza and a milkshake. They were talking among themselves, trying to avoid the conversation they were just engrossed in moments before, when a high pitched squeal interrupted them from their conversation.

"SANNNNY!"

There was a blur of blonde hair and lengthy arms, and Brittany had slid into the booth, motioning the girl she was with to slide in next to Rachel.

"Hi Rachel. Wait—what's Rachel doing here? Are you guys double dating? Where's Puck? I thought she and Finn broke up? Why are you at the diner?"

"Britt—calm down. And no we aren't double dating. Rachel and I are…friends."

"Really? Since when?"

"Since around the time you and Tiffany started dating."

"Are you the same kind of friends we were?"

Rachel flushed crimson. Santana decided to change the subject.

"Why are you at Barb's?"

"Oh! Tiff's mom owns it. We get free ice cream. Isn't that right Tiff?"

All three girls turned their heads to the quiet African American girl twiddling her thumbs next to Rachel. She finally realized she was being included in the conversation, sitting up straight and adjusting her letterman jacket.

"Yea, totally. I can tell her to send out sundaes for you guys if you like."

"I'm a vegan, so no thank you, but thank you for the offer."

It was the first time Rachel had seen the girl face to face, her mouth forming a big 'O' when she realized who she was.

"Vocal Adrenaline? You're dating Tiffany from Vocal Adrenaline? Brittany this is the same girl who gave Jessie the egg to crush in my face and you're dating _**her**_!"

Brittany stayed quiet, tearing a paper napkin into shreds. Tiffany chose then to speak.

"Whoa, Berry. That was a long time ago. It's something we always do to squelch the competition. There are no hard feelings. And besides—didn't you send Sunshine to a crack house? Isn't that so much worse?"

"Touché. Truce?"

They shook hands. Brittany and Santana were off in Brittana land, and Tiffany chose that opportunity to talk to Rachel.

"So is she your girlfriend?"

Rachel shook her head in the negative. Easily changing the subject before her blush gave away anything.

"How did you and Brittany meet?"

Tiffany smiled, staring across the table at her girlfriend who was adamantly explaining something to Santana.

"She volunteers at the zoo. She was explaining to me how penguins have babies. I asked if she wanted to hang out. The rest is history."

Rachel furrowed her brows, trying to grasp the concept of Brittany explaining anything to anyone. The waitress brought their food then, Tiffany standing up to hug "Betty" and sitting back down, waiting for Brittany and Santana to acknowledge the rest of the table. Rachel picked at her salad, not noticing that Brittany was asking her a question.

"So when were you guys going to tell me that you were dating?"

Rachel looked up only when Tiffany had elbowed her.

"We—we aren't, I mean we haven't—"

"Berry quit lying- you can smell it on you two from a mile away."

Rachel turned to Tiffany, lost for words and stumbling over her own thoughts.

"Well, this would have been our first date…but you guys crashed the party." Santana said quietly.

They both stood, giggling their way back to their own booth, Brittany occasionally sending Santana text messages during their meal. They ate in silence for a while, Santana looking up from her pizza with a broad grin on her face.

"That's a start…right?"

000 0000 000

The house was dark when they entered. Santana opened the front door, putting on the alarm as she swept through the house, checking rooms and switching on lights. Her parents had left long ago, probably in the middle of an overcrowded emergency ward, crawling with teenagers and their moronic episodes. She scanned the house, finding nothing missing or out of place, wandering into her bedroom where Rachel had already taken off her shoes and pulled out her shirt tails. Santana sat beside her, pulling a pillow underneath her, watching silently while Rachel read over Santana's discarded trigonometry book, seemingly engrossed. She looked primarily at the book, her face completely neutral, before shutting it and staring unblinking at her.

"So tonight was a date?"

She asked half fearing the answer. Santana shrugged halfheartedly.

"It was what it was. We went out and all that jazz, brought you out in public- or whatever."

Rachel's face brightened instantly. In seconds her face was centimeters away from Santana's her eyes focused on not letting Santana's gaze slide from her own. She could feel Santana's strawberry tinted breath impressing flutters into Rachel's plump bottom lip.

"I like dates…"

Rachel descended upon her. Her lips pressed incessantly against Santana's her breath hitching and inhaling at the same time, Santana's whimper not deaf on Rachel's perfect pitch ears. One of Santana's hands drifted to her waist, the other tilting her cheek in her palm, their lips coming together like the crashing of wanton waves. They felt the brewing in their stomachs, inching to the tips of their tongues as they mingled on the moment of their kiss. Rachel's hands were searching for softer pastures, climbing deftly across Santana's sides, leaving a static cling to her skin wherever she roamed. Santana was buzzing as Rachel's hands traced the edges of her top, pulling it in one fluid motion over Santana's head, letting it fall gracefully to the floor. Rachel was kissing her neck now…sucking on pulse points and nipping where necessary. Santana wasn't ticklish. She let her neck out openly, letting her gently and suck on one of her most erogenous zones. She felt tiny hands reach to the clasps of her bra and unsnap them, tugging the offending material down delicately, barely grazing her tanned, golden skin.

Rachel pushed Santana down, swiftly kissing down her collarbone, her breast, and her peaked, brown nipple, erect and stiff in her anticipating mouth. She mewled; her body curving toward Rachel's mouth, running her hands through Rachel's silky mane, tugging appreciatively when she sucked hard on the nub, treating the other just the same before undressing and settling beside her. She let her hands dance wildly around Santana's raging erection, eliciting whimpers as she teased around the one place Santana had wanted her. Rachel sat up, pulling off Santana's skirt and underwear. She sat on the bed, sitting on the heels of her feet, her hip near Santana's face, leaning down to put her mouth over the swollen head, Santana's hips bucking toward her as she came closer over it. Rachel hesitated, Santana's hands shot out to her hip, pulling her over her shoulder, her sex resting on Santana's chin.

"You'll suffoc-"

Rachel moaned as Santana lifted her chin and darted her tongue over Rachel's clit. She leaned back, trying to adjust so she wasn't blatantly sitting on the other girl's face. She adjusted her arms over Santana's hips, pouting her lips around the head of her engorged penis, swirling her tongue down the shaft, curling her body to lick at her slit opening underneath. Rachel was trying to concentrate on that one seemingly simple task while Santana went to work on her clit, knocking that remarkable tongue over the nub like a pendulum, swift and steady; holding her thighs in place as she attacked her with her mouth. Rachel had put Santana into her mouth, bobbing up and down over her, her hand working the base that she chose not to swallow in her ministrations, moaning uncontrollably at the sensation of sitting on Santana's face. She was so close to climaxing, trying her best to no buckle under the weight of her own pleasure, trying not to rock on her heels while Santana was lapping at her already wet vagina.

Santana pulled her arms between Rachel's open legs, dragging from beneath her and gathering herself on her knees behind her. Santana rubbed a reassuring hand into the curve of her back, Rachel's fingertips reaching forward to pull in a pillow, crossing her arms under it as Santana pushed a solitary finger inside. She could hear her intake of breath, and turned in time to see Santana marvel at the sight in front her, Rachel Berry, on all fours, spread open and soaking wet. She pulled her finger out, and rubbed the tip of her penis from her opening to her clit, rubbing back up and pressing into her slightly, a steady, calm hand perched on her ass, the other guiding slowly and cautiously into her.

"Is this okay?"

She heard it from behind her right before Santana pushed all the way in, stealing Rachel's breath away. She shook her head erratically, too full to speak. She pulled out awkwardly, putting her other hand—now shaking—on the other side of her ass. She pushed back in with certainty, squeezing the skin in her open palmed fists, steadying her pace as Rachel moaned excessively into her pillow. She was flushed red everywhere, the little gasps of her open mouth 'Oooh Ooooh Ooooh's' coincided with the beat that Santana's hips bumped into Rachel's bare bottom. Santana pulled back, the longer strokes sent Rachel screaming. She was chanting "_Harder_ _Harder_ _Harder_" to the steamy room. Santana obliged, slamming mercilessly into Rachel as she shook; tumbling through her orgasm, the pulsations rippling around her sensitive penis, sending Santana crumbling into Rachel's body, her hair wet against her clammy forehead, her abdomen aching in relief.

They fell asleep that way, not remembering when the succumbed to sleep.

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They woke up the following day late for school. In a slew of curse words they stumbled through their separate routines, leaving as Santana's parents got home from work, tired from the night before. Santana skipped first period, opting to text Rachel the plot to get back at Finn. She sat in the choir room, staring at the single text message and smirking as she sent it.

_One word: Mailman_

She ignored the reply Rachel sent back telling her that that could actually constitute as two words.

End of Chapter 11

This is somewhat a filler chapter. The whole plot to bring down Finn comes next chapter (I'm evil, I know). Hope this fills in until then! Read and Review.

And I need feedback! It's hard with the she did and Rachel did and Santana did—especially when I'm associating Santana with the male attributes during smut scenes. Let me know if I'm not confusing anyone!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: So these Glee episodes have had me laughing crying hurting and singing along all at the same time! Thanks to all of the reviews and alerts. Some prompt fills will be going up on my page next week, look out for a few of them; one's even a Rachel/Santana one-shot.

Chapter 12

"What are you talking about!"

He shouted. He screamed in that insanely Neanderthal way where he thought raising the decibels of his voice would somehow clarify the inane sentence falling from his simple mouth. He was standing in the middle of the busy hallway, a hush filtering through the corridor, multiple witnesses turning to stare at the debacle at the end of the hall, Santana was tapping her foot impatiently, both her hands on her hips, her body bent toward the much taller football players.

"You heard me _Finnocence_! You've been spreading bull around school about me. You're seriously killing my rep. Stop telling people we porked. You jizzed in your jimmy and cried about it. You didn't get a chance to tap this."

Finn pulled her by her elbow toward a vacant water fountain. It was quiet enough to drop rice in the hallway, none of the students caring that they were openly staring.

"Santana, are you sure you want to do this here—we had _sex_…this is personal…"

His whispers were even loud.

She flinched back as if affronted. She pulled her hand to her chest, the sinister smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"This is personal? It's too PERSONAL!"

Her pointer finger flung in front of his face, Finn whipping his hands up in surrender, backing up slowly into the empty space behind him. He put on his best puppy dog face, his eyes shifting from left to right before returning to the Cheerio in front of him.

"Are you retarded? Look Gigantor. I know you think babies come from sky elevators and that you can knock up girls from hot tub jets but this is ridiculous. Stop telling people we had sex. I mean really? Take care of your little early arrival situation before you even think about getting with this…"

She waved her hands up and down her own body, noticing that the dumbfounded face he was wearing was unchanging. She smacked her teeth against her tongue and walked away, scuffling past Jacob Ben-Israel, holding his cell phone up to finish his recording. She heard the sound of Finn smacking his forehead before walking away.

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They'd decided the previous week that they couldn't do something completely malicious to Finn. For some reason it would be morally irresponsible to humiliate or harm the boy, so she'd talked Santana into leaving out physical violence; even though she knew she wouldn't mind seeing Finn get knocked around just a little bit. The only thing they could honestly do without outing their budding…_friendship_, would be to ruin his reputation. She knew all of his insecurities and most of his secrets, and Santana knew how to implement her fantasies of revenge. It just so happened that it worked in their favor. Rachel was happy that she could not be openly blamed for this and she knew Finn knew better than to mess with an angry Santana Lopez. She smiled at that. She was sitting in her bedroom, books on her bed, most of her homework done since Friday, she'd fixed her schedule to fit in all the things she usually did, but with a large chunk of her Friday evening devoted to the homework for the upcoming week. She thought beside herself, noticing that most of her regularly scheduled homework time was now being devoted to _hanging_ with Santana. She stood up, moving to her window to check if the black car would be outside. It still wasn't.

She sat at her computer desk, the huff pushing past her lips before she heard her father push her door open.

"Sweetie. I need to talk to you."

He sat on her bed.

"We've noticed that you've been going out with Santana Lopez quite a lot lately, and your father and I want to know if we should suspect that you are…seeing this girl."

Rachel lost her words.

"Now I'm not upset that you may want to date her, but with all the alone time you two spend together and the sleepovers…its inappropriate if you two are _together_."

Rachel opened her mouth to tell the truth, the lie slipping out before she had time to gather her admittance.

"We are friends Dad. I mean, I don't have too many friends, and since her best friend started dating someone new, we've had more time to hang around each other."

She lied to her fathers on a daily basis. They felt too contained in such a small town as Lima, so they often left to visit other states for shows and business. She used to go with them, but she quickly realized that they trusted her enough to leave her alone, and she could pretty much function without their input. She never lied about anything important. She usually told them that she was practicing, out with friends or at the library. She didn't really know why she made a point to lie this time, knowing her father wouldn't judge her if she was gay; but the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to have the kind of freedom she had with Santana trumped her guilt.

She heard the doorbell, her Daddy answering it before jogging upstairs to Rachel's room.

"Honey, there are three girls downstairs asking to kidnap you for the night."

"Three?"

Rachel followed her parents down the steps, noticing Brittany with her hands clasped behind her back, leaning on the outsides of her boot clad ankles, staring at a plaque on the wall. Tiffany was taking in her house, her eyes wandering from the woodwork to the carpets, her neck rolling around the room to get a better feel. Santana was by the door, her arms crossed and hair down, her downcast face shrouded in a sea of sable locks. Rachel stopped at the bottom landing, turning to her fathers who were standing side by side in front of her. Santana's head shot up.

"Hey Mr. Berry and Mr. Berry. We wanted to know if Rach could come see the dollar movie with us and maybe stay over my house tonight, my mom already said it was okay. I'll drop her at school tomorrow."

Her fathers looked at each other, then back to Santana, then to the doting Rachel on the landing. She hadn't known they'd all come with Santana. Rachel had been prepared on what she would be telling her fathers before she shot out the door with her already packed overnight bag. They nodded and Rachel beamed before shooting up the staircase and seconds later shooting back down before giving both of her fathers a kiss.

"If she's late for school tomorrow there will be no more next times."

They all nodded, heading to Santana's car and buckling in.

"So what movie are we going to see?"

Santana laughed.

"There is no movie, silly. Brittany has the house to herself and my parents are off tonight. We are going to crash in her basement."

Rachel looked to the back seat, Tiffany and Brittany huddled over Tiffany's cell phone, giggling over some video of a fainting cat. She felt somewhat uneasy that she'd be having sex in someone's house. Knowing Brittany…she probably did it often. She sat back in her chair and made small talk with Santana for the quick ride to Brittany's.

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Brittany's basement looked like it came from a magazine from the 1970s. There were bean bag chairs and disco ball lamp shades, the brown and yellow furniture was worn for wear and the television set was a floor model, a smaller flat screen version sat neatly on top of it. The only updated furniture in the large cellar was the exercise equipment and air hockey table. She watched Santana smirk muttering about how Brittany's parents hated to throw things away. She was pulling out the couch bed, turning around to Rachel as she whipped the sheets out over it. Brittany and Tiffany retired an hour before, _Finding Nemo_ was still on the t.v. when Santana nudged her and nodded toward the basement door.

They both took off their jeans and socks, slipping beneath the thin sheets their; backs against the overstuffed pillows.

"I think I watched that video ten times today of Finn's face."

Santana turned to look at her, her head shaking from side to side.

"I heard his girlfriend dumped him in the cafeteria on Friday. Everybody thinks he's going to skip tomorrow."

"Serves him right…so why are your parents home tonight?"

Santana turned toward the television set.

"It's their anniversary. It was easy for me to sneak out, I'd rather not be there while they bone."

Rachel wrinkled her nose. Santana turned to her, smiling broadly.

"And besides…I didn't want your pops to hear you bone either so we came here."

She kissed Rachel then, her eager mouth puckering toward the smaller girls. Rachel's tiny hand wiggled through the air between them, her hand pushing against Santana's chest; stopping her.

"My Dad asked if we were together today…" She let the unspoken question linger between them.

"I told him no…because he would start applying rules and we wouldn't be able to see each other as much and I wouldn't be allowed to stay over your house anymore because it would be inappropriate."

Santana leaned back.

"Do you want to be all together?"

Rachel shrugged.

"I like things how they are. I don't mind the lack of notoriety we have at school, I actually like it better that I don't have Jacob Ben-Israel following me around for quotes for his stupid blog about how far Finn and I have gotten. But I'm not seeing other people… and I don't know if you are or if you want to start and—"

"I'm not and I don't."

"And I completely understand if you'd rather the no commitment terms I've set in the past. This situation has surpassed any of the expectations that I –"

And Santana kissed her, nodding her head affirmatively as she stroked Rachel's kiss during their embrace. It was such a dainty gesture. But it was also sure. Santana pulled back from the kiss, not dropping either of her hands from Rachel's cheeks.

"It's hard for you to shut up some times, gosh!"

Rachel kissed her, pulling Santana's t-shirt as they both lay fully on the bed, Santana's breath whispering willowy pressure into the place where Rachel's neck met her shoulder. She began kissing her there, trailing fragile kisses against her skin. She quickly rolled up her shirt, staring her intently in the eyes as she tugged the fabric up, and off to the floor. She unclasped her bra, pulling it down her slender shoulders, her kisses resuming as she puckered against the valley of her breasts. She stared directly into Rachel's eyes, kissing her slowly; like every movement was made deliberately and every action was sure; justified. Rachel knotted her fingers in Santana's hair, watching as she eagerly traveled down her body to her open legs, Rachel's knees up and tightening around Santana's settling body. In a fell swoop she pulled off Rachel's underwear, letting them fall to the floor with a whispered 'plop'.

She was moving fast, but before Rachel could stop her she could feel Santana's lips pressing against her clit, gentle kisses fluttering vibrations as she puckered. Santana kissed the inside of her thighs, one at a time, settling again on her clit as she stared into Rachel's gaze, the flat of her tongue pressing abruptly against her sex.

And their tango began. She was pulling stings inside of Rachel's chest, her tongue swiping over places that made Rachel curl with elation, with satisfaction; with feeling. Santana didn't let her come down from her orgasm before pushing inside her, one of Rachel's legs over her shoulders. She was holding her hips for affirmation, pummeling pure emotion into her all too willing body. They mingled on the edges of their orgasm, sweat building on their goose bumping flesh, the rhythm of their coupling all too entrancing. Santana leaned down to kiss her, Rachel's leg tight beneath them, Santana's rhythm never breaking, both of their orgasms pouring out simultaneously their bodies crumbling as they lay beside each other, sleep folding them together before tipping off to bed.

End of Chapter 12.

A/N: Short update. The Finn ordeal seems short but it will be back. And I didn't want to be all sappy but it just happened. Next few chapters will bring a few doctor's appointments, some parent drama, and a threat on Santana's secret.

Reviews feed the hamster I have running on the wheel to power my laptop cord. The more I get the longer I write!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry about the delay. I was being particularly picky about when I would type all of this up. I'm going to start skipping handwriting one of these days. **

**Other stories: I have 32 handwritten pages dedicated to Gossip, Dirty Fingers and Perseverance. They haven't been forgotten; I just need to stop avoiding my computers. **

**Warning: Sap, Fluff, Smut and general vomit inducing Romanticism. I couldn't stop the story from writing itself…so brace yourself for all the sentimental crap. **

Chapter 13

Christmas climbed to the top of Santana's priority list, sectionals breezing by with her first official solo and the subsequent tie. She wasn't proud of sharing a title, but they couldn't allow another failure like that at Regionals. School inched by as it usually did; forestalling any enthusiasm they had for the upcoming two week Christmas break. There would be no cheerleading practice, no classes and definitely no homework. She'd gone Christmas shopping online, happy that she wouldn't join the throngs of Lima citizens crowding the very small gallery mall; towing rowdy sticky children and bad attitudes. She was frugal by nature; opting to only buy her parents and Brittany gifts. She tossed around the idea of buying something for Rachel, but quickly decided that getting her a Christmas gift would be disrespectful to her religion.

Her parents however, were not religious at all. They treated Christmas like a commercial holiday, buying her anything she'd mentioned wanting throughout the year. Last year's Christmas gifts included her new car, a dirt bike to tag along to motocross practice with Brittany, and a new wardrobe; which was hilarious since she couldn't remember wearing anything other than her Cheerios uniform for the last three years. Her parents usually took the Christmas holiday off, and her mother would cook and Brittany would stop over before she stole Santana back to her house. She'd never admit it; but they usually played with the toys that Brittany's parents got her.

She knew things would be different this year. Brittany was planning on introducing Tiffany to her family, and they would probably welcome her to dinner and Santana would be left making cookies with her mother well into the night. She and Rachel had been spending a lot of time with the other couple, doing things Santana would normally never do in public. If you ever asked her; she would lie; but their "relationship" was starting to make her nervous. Santana was never in a position like the one she was currently in—the commitment, the expectations; everything was starting to grate down on her subconscious, and her diffidence had begun to whisper negative thoughts into her ear.

She never had to cope with the pressures of a relationship. It scared her shitless that she was in a monogamous…something with someone she made a point to put down in the name of reputation. She hated feeling like such an insecure little girl. She hated the vulnerabilities her relationship with Rachel was uncovering. She was starting to have doubts. It was a push and pull between too much and too fast; sometimes. She felt herself getting _attached_. But she couldn't stay away from the girl. She grappled with the conflicting feelings. Complete elation overtook her, happiness settling in the part of her chest under her ribcage thrumming against her breastbone; the burden of the possibilities settling uneasily on her worrying stomach. But she couldn't lie and say that she was also having a blast all the while. They never talked about their tomorrows. They hadn't discussed what would happen with what they had if it eventually came out; or after her surgery. They just were. It was liberating; it was terrifying.

She felt so naked.

They'd been spending all of their free time together, making excuses for it fell on the wayside. She was sincerely open in her feelings; yet so shockingly secret with her inner revelations.

She rolled her eyes at herself.

She was sitting in her computer chair, thumbing the small gold bracelet in her hand, the single microphone charm dangling daintily from it. _She was always so frugal with her money._ But she had purchased the jewelry with her hard earned money; as well as the novelty items on the screen in front of her. Money she made for reorganizing her father's patient files; money her mother paid her for cleaning the nurses break room at the hospital on nights she couldn't sleep. She knew Rachel didn't celebrate Christmas, but her birthday was coming up. And being the hormonal teenager she was, she was contemplating letting her do something she was finally sure she was ready to do. She stared at the computer screen, the shopping cart's two items sitting readily by the 'confirm' button. She submitted her purchase, shutting her laptop before putting the delicate charm bracelet back in its satin box, back into her computer desk drawer.

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Winter break was a few days away, anticipation slipping into her veins like the chill on Ohio. It was the night before Rachel's birthday, she'd be staying over since it was Friday, her fathers making her promise she'd be home by three the following day so she could celebrate with them. Santana had plans. She didn't realize when things like this had suddenly started to matter, but tonight was important. She was going to pick her up after her parents left for work, they were heading to dinner at the diner with Tiff and Britt, and they were all going ice skating afterward. Santana had her gift wrapped, the other box was under her bed, the UPS label showing right side up; left on her doorstep the day before.

Her parents were shuffling about the house, getting into the routine of preparing for a long night at work. Her mother was eating fruit on the couch, her father in his study going over patient files and follow up care forms. It was already six thirty, they'd be getting ready to leave soon, and she could drive over to pick up Tiffany and Britt, and swing to get Rachel. Her father stuck his head into her room; interrupting her overactive thoughts.

"Ana. I need to talk with you."

Her father wasn't a tall man. No higher than her mother's five feet eight inches; he rarely seemed to tower over her. He stood in her doorway; finally walking inside and quietly closing her door. He leaned on her bureau, his arms crossed amicably across his chest.

"I have been noticing you and Rachel have been around each other quite a lot."

"Yea so are me and Britt, what's the problem?"

"Look, Ana, a few things have changed quickly around here, and I've been getting this little feeling that some things are going on that you are keeping from us."

"Whatever, Pops, I don't have anything to hide."

"Ana don't lie to me. Look—things are different this time. You're surrounded by all these pretty girls and maybe your body is reacting to them; I'm worried that you are doing things irresponsibly and I don't—"

"Please don't give me the sex talk. I'm good."

Santana was sitting at her desk, her chair leaned back and her arms defensively over her chest. She was faintly aware of the pout puckering at her mouth.

"Ana… you sleep with this girl in your bed and you are trying to tell me that there isn't anything going on between the two of you? If I had sleepovers with girls at your age I know damn well we wouldn't be sleeping."

She rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head negatively at his accusations; avoiding his chocolate brown eyes as they knocked down all of her defense mechanisms.

"Ana, I'm not mad. I'm not going to take away your car and make you stay in the house. But what you're doing isn't right. There are rules set and you are disregarding them and expecting me and your mother not to notice. We let things slide with Brittany. You couldn't have sex with Brittany. Well—not that kind—I mean what I'm trying to say is…"

He pinches his nose, standing straighter in his position he hiked up his pants before sitting down on her bed.

"We don't invade on your privacy, Ana. Marian doesn't tell us about your sessions, we don't question what you don't tell us. We only know what's going on from what we see. We like Rachel a lot Ana. But if you are having sex in my house I will seriously be offended. Don't lie to me Ana."

He had a way of pouring sympathy into his words like warm tea on a chest cold. His wooly eyebrows tilted toward his scalp as he asked her questions with his now open palms. All of the air blew out of her cheeks. She wiped her face with her hands, leaning her elbows on her kneecaps before settling her chin on her palm as she looked up at her father.

"Fine. We had sex. So what? Dad, I'm sixteen. I like her. She likes me."

"Ana if you're gay that's fine. But you are disrespecting my rules, and you are betraying my trust. If you would have brought a boy here I would have treated him like I treated Noah. I trust your judgment- I would expect that we meet him, and that you let us get to know him. Have the respect to obey the rules I set in this house, Santana. Your condition makes this different. You can't keep blurring these lines to your advantage. I'm disappointed in your behavior, Ana, and I hope you understand why."

Her father stood again, towering over her authoritatively. He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels as he looked behind her out her window.

"So…how was it? Do you have any questions? Are you curious about anything I can clear up?"

Santana laughed.

"This is totally inappropriate."

Her father smiled, ruffling her hair out of place before sitting back on the bed. He clapped his hands together before combing his fingers through his goatee, presumably wiping away imaginary crumbs.

"So. Are you thinking about what this means for your surgery?"

"No. What does it mean? Nothing's changed."

"Yea it has, Ana. Are you sure you're ready for it all? You know with all the new discoveries you've made?"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"If this is a father son moment I'm seriously divorcing this family."

Her father chuckled.

"No, I only have a daughter. She just happens to be a stud."

She smiled.

"Honestly, Pops, I don't know. I'm not too peachy with knives and stitches. I'm a little nervous. But I still feel the way I do."

"You know if you leave everything as is, you can define yourself."

She closed her mouth, her tongue suddenly dry against the roof of her mouth.

"Ana, it's okay to change your mind. No one will judge you for it."

"I know, Daddy."

She was playing with her fingers, wringing them against each other as she pulled at her messy thoughts.

"No one's rushing. But Ana…I hope you know that your mother and I are going to talk to the Berrys about what's been going on… We are responsible for their daughter just as much as we are of you when she is here."

She was horrified. She looked at her father, the stern look on his face shutting down any of her quick quips. She shook her head.

"Fine. But can it wait until Sunday, tomorrow's her birthday."

Her father rolled his eyes.

"This will be the last time she stays over for a while, Ana. Make it worth it."

Her father kissed her forehead, leaving her room as he sat on the couch with her mother, propping his arm around her shoulders and stealing all the grapes out of her bowl.

000 0000 000

They were at the rink, Tiffany and Brittany gliding along together across the ice, free flowing together as they played around with dismounting tricks, their balance impeccable. Rachel and Santana were sitting on the benches, breaking for hot cocoa with their skates off. She felt like such a wreck. She was twirling the box in her coat pocket, toying with the idea of giving it to her in public. She pulled it out abruptly, awkwardly halting their conversation to draw attention to the velvety black box she was pushing into the other girls lap. Rachel put her cup down, staring at the box curiously, slowly taking it from her and snapping it open, playing with the bracelet in her hands. She undid the latch, pulling Santana's hands to clasp it back together around her wrist. She holds her arm in front of her, staring at the tiny charm; beaming. She shot into her arms.

There were no words exchanged, they changed into their shoes and called Britt and Tiff and all drove to music in the car, Brittany bouncing in the back seat until they dropped them both off at Tiffany's house. The drive to Santana's house was loud, midnight rolled around to a screaming rendition of happy birthday as they pulled into Santana's driveway. They went straight to her bed room, crawling out of their cold clothes and digging into the warm blankets in their underwear. They stayed quiet, listening to the contented air between them. Rachel was on Santana's chest, soothed by the calm rise and fall of her breaths, the ice from outside oozing to the tips of their toes and dissipating beneath the blankets.

Rachel kissed her first, grabbing her face and stealing her air as she rubbed her fingertips through her scalp. They were a bundle of frustrated energy, hands pulling at body parts and flesh smashing together like magnets. Santana sat up, pulling away from her and stopping their embrace.

"I want to lose my v-card to you."

Rachel was confused. Santana climbed off the bed, sliding the box from under her bed and opening the flaps. She pulled it from the box, holding it up curiously in front of Rachel, somewhat nervous about her reaction.

"I got it online. It's about the same size as mine is…"

Rachel bit her lip. She got out of the bed to stand in front of Santana. She bent down in front of Rachel, holding the harness off the floor for her to step into. She tugged it up her hips, her chest rising a little faster than before, secretly anxious as she tightened the straps around Rachel's thighs. Rachel cupped her face after the last of their adjustments, kissing her lips softly as she lowered them both onto the bed.

000 0000 000

Rachel was buzzing. She'd done her research; she was going to broach the subject with Santana as soon as she could fit in the subject matter. If she did anything, she always did it well prepared. She was kissing her, puckering her lips against Santana's skin, working the kinks out of her coiled body. Rachel worked her, rubbing her hardening penis as she rolled her tongue into her moist sex. She tugged the tip of her tongue up her shaft, rolling the head of Santana's penis into her mouth and swallowing her whole.

Santana was trying to keep her mouth closed, following the bob of Rachel's head with low lit eyes, enjoying the sensation but aching for release. Rachel climbed up the sheets; seemingly floating above her- the tip of the dong attached to the strap-on harness pressing against her opening. Rachel disappeared from her line of vision, leaning on her knees to see what she was doing, She lined the toy with Santana's opening, grabbing the base of her hard penis before leaning into her, pushing into her. Santana could only release the air from her constricted lungs, letting her eyes roll closed as Rachel inched inside her, the feeling of something invading her body for the first time overwhelming her senses. She felt something inside her give way, tears pinching at the corners of her eyes as they slipped down her cheeks, Rachel staring down and what was happening before her, her hand slowly stroking her still erect penis, the sensation of pleasure distracting Santana long enough to let out a low, guttural grunt. Rachel started moving. The shaky rhythm was uncomfortable, the pressure of her core thumping in acknowledgement, her burning flesh forcing winced hisses from her mouth.

Rachel slowed her movements, lifting both of Santana's lithe legs up to her slender shoulders, her head tucked between her calves, her arm holding her knees straight, the dong still inside her. Her other hand was reaching around the other side of her legs, wrapping again around her somewhat softer penis. She rolled her hips slowly, the harness of the strap on tapping against her clit as she made contact with Santana's hips. Pulling out she stroked her penis again, rolling her thumb over the leaking head of it and experimentally bringing it to her mouth, sticking her tongue out to taste Santana's anticipation. Santana's body relaxed, softening and heavy against Rachel's slowly moving body. She was finding her rhythm now, thrusting into her and knowing it was pleasurable when the harness stroked her own clit, working moans past her tight lipped mouth, bunched in concentration.

Santana was holding her hand out, shorting the depth of Rachel's thrusts. Rachel was aiming higher, rolling her hips and slamming into a part of Santana that felt like she was ticlking the base of her penis from the inside, the raging hard-on pointing heady accusations into Rachel's still moving hand. Santana was whimpering between breaths, the low noises falling from her mouth coinciding with the sounds the impact of their bodies made together. The rhythm was reality shattering—Santana closing her eyes and relishing the feeling of the poly-arousal, the sounds of Rachel's grunts so unladylike as she rolled into her, sweat furrowing her brow as her clit rubbed against the back pad of the harness, the dong double tapping the swollen nub and sending her over the edge. She rode out her orgasm inside of Santana, trying to stop her hips from shaking as she came, trying not to slam into Santana mercilessly. She caught her breath, resuming the up and down pressure she was applying to Santana's throbbing penis, stroking into her now wet sex.

Santana was overwhelmed with every feeling imaginable. Rachel was touching her in ways her mind couldn't quite process and she was coming undone. The pain was quickly forgotten, soreness rubbing into her tired legs as Rachel worked on reaching Santana's orgasm. She hadn't ever really thought about the reality of the moment, Rachel above her wanton with power, raging inside of her and working her hard penis. The image was sexy; it was unforgettable. She could feel herself squeezing the strap-on, clenching around it as her stomach tightened from the release she felt pushing up the shaft of her penis. She wanted to stop; if only for the reason that she didn't know if she could survive such a powerful current pulsing out of her pores.. She felt herself contracting; her walls fluttering wildly around the stilled toy inside her, erupting as Rachel's hand caught the remnants of her climax on her sullied fingers, getting up and wiping the clear fluid on the tissues Santana kept on her vanity. Rachel loosened the straps of the harness, letting it fall to the floor of Santana's bedroom. She did away with it in the cardboard box, noticing that she would have to clean it the following morning, too spent to worry about it then. She climbed into the bed with Santana, wrapping her around her and drifting off to sleep.

000 0000 000

Santana had managed to wake before her parents came home the following morning to clean. Well, that was her plan. She woke up aching, her inner thighs burning with each step she took toward the bathroom. After running a bath she eased into the tub, she could hear Rachel pulling the sheets off her bed and coming into the bathroom momentarily to wash off the remnants of the night before.

Santana emerged shortly after, noticing that most of the room was cleaned already, their clothes from the night before bent awkwardly over the back of her computer chair. She dressed, sitting down at the vanity; she tried to brush the curls from her wet hair, opting to turn her blow dryer on while Rachel showered noisily in the adjacent room.

They ate breakfast with her parents, saying goodbyes as Santana drove the familiar way to Rachel's house.

"My Dad's going to come over tomorrow to tell your Dads about us."

It was quiet.

"How did he find out?"

"He just knew."

Rachel stared out of the window, frowning.

"Fine."

They said nothing else in the car, wondering all too suddenly about their unspoken tomorrow.

000 0000 000

Rachel had conned her fathers out of going to therapy, so Santana finished out her morning doing homework for the upcoming break; that she wouldn't be doing when she was actually breaking from school. Her appointment rolled around and she sat in front of Marian, filing her fingernails and shifting from soreness in her seat. It would be a long session; especially when all she could think about was what was going to happen the following morning.

000 0000 000

This would have been around 20 pages in word had I continued to type it. So instead of posting this epic chapter all tonight, I am cutting it in half so that the next chapter focuses on Rachel's parents finding out, Finn pushing back into the picture, surgery conclusions and hopefully some angst.

Please review.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I deem this a boring chapter… some stuff goes down but better stuff goes down next chapter. Please review.**

Sunday came with a lazy start. She woke late, dragging her feet as she showered; slouching into her clothes as she dressed. She'd talked to Rachel and her fathers the night before, agreeing to meet for a late brunch at the Berry house. They rode over in the quiet of the drive, Santana sitting in the back seat, her parents making a point not to allow her to drive her own car—there would be no storm outs. She knew her father would have to out her for her condition, and it changed the severity of the punishment she was sure Rachel would be subjected to. She felt bad already; feeling immediately worse when she realized she would be limited to spending time with her.

The sigh that barreled out of her chest as her father pressed the door bell to the Berry residence was an unintentional hitch and release of breath, the steadying one that followed when Rachel opened the door, however, was completely intentional. They exchanged pleasantries as Rachel led them to the living room, her father offering them all tea as they settled into the loveseats. If Rachel was scared, there were no indications on her face, her rigid posture and crossed legs were still; she seemed well prepared for the worst. The room was quiet as both Rachel's fathers waited patiently for their gathering to start. Rachel and Santana had been vague over the phone the night before when they made arrangements to meet. The air was a thick block of tension, both girls sitting cross legged across from each other—both anxious. Her mother spoke first.

"It's actually really nice to meet the men who raised such a pleasant girl like Rachel. We enjoy having her over."

The Berry's looked between them, nodding as they sipped their tea, returning the compliment. Santana's parents nodded back, her father continuing the conversation

"However, it has come to our attention that our girls are… _dating_. While this would normally not be a problem with either of us, we are worried due to Santana's current…condition, and state of mind, they are behaving irresponsibly."

Rachel's father spoke up, his dark chocolate hands contrasting against the porcelain tea cup.

"I don't understand, Rachel told me they weren't dating; right, Rach?"

Rachel stared at her lap.

"Well we weren't, Daddy—we are now…"

Her father sat stone faced, her other father grabbing his hand and continuing the conversation.

"It will be dealt with. Rachel will not be allowed to do a lot of things for the next few weeks, seeing Santana will be one of them. Maybe she will be able to earn back her privileges before the school year ends—"

Rachel rolled her eyes, staring right into Santana's face as Mr. Lopez interrupted her father.

"We have recently discovered that the girls have been…_active_, while we haven't been home. Consequently, Rachel will not be allowed over, or out with Santana; at least until my daughter learns how obey the rules."

"Active; _sexually active_? Rachel, we talked about this."

"Daddy it's not that serious—"

Rachel's father stood up, he rubbed his balding head and removed his glasses, pacing in front of the coffee table.

"It is, Rachel. You are disrespecting every rule we ever trusted you to follow. You were supposed to talk to us about this; Rachel—I know you think it's different because it's another girl, that because you can't get pregnant it's not the same thing; but you've been sneaking around, lying and having _sex_, Rachel. This is disgraceful."

Rachel was quiet. She was twisting her hands in her lap, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Santana sat across from her, wanting more than anything to go over and give her a hug. She'd made Rachel cry once, on a day where her testosterone levels were raging and she was just so _**frustrated**_ about everything. She made a point not to see her cry again, and it was killing to sit still while their parents talked about the repercussions of their behavior.

"I am also entitled to let you know of Santana's condition."

Santana's head snapped to her side.

"Dad, that's none of their business—"

Her father put his hand up.

"Santana is intersexed. And until a few months ago, she had no carnal use of her…penis."

Santana's face dropped. Her cheeks were crimson, dark against the tan of her skin.

"Intersex? As in; hermaphroditic? Rachel's not pregnant is she? This will not be one of those talks, will it?"

Her father sat down, pulling his glasses back on his face, drinking the rest of his tea out of his cup with shaky hands.

"No Mr. Berry, it won't be. Santana is in the final stages before undergoing surgery in June. She is sterile; however, I would suggest that you setup a gyno visit for Rachel."

She was shaking her head, she was livid. Her father was always the doctor. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for the conversation to end.

"This information is privileged, of course."

Rachel's father nodded at the lawyer word, standing as they all stood to leave.

"Well, Rachel is going to be grounded for a few weeks. If you find her at your house, feel free to give us a call."

"Same here, thanks for meeting with us."

000 0000 000

"All you had to do was tell the truth, Rachel. All this lying and hiding things from us is so unlike you. Did you at least protect yourself, Rachel?"

"Santana can't get me pregnant…"

"I thought you were smarter than this, Rachel. Did you use condoms?"

She shook her head.

"We talked about sex, Rachel. We told you about the infections and the diseases; you also told us when you were ready you would come to us; that you would still take the proper precautions. I am so disappointed in you."

Her Daddy was pacing in front of her, his usually sweet features knotted in frustration. Her Dad was sitting in his office, talking to her Rabbi.

"When I asked you if you were together, why did you think you had to lie to me?"

"I wasn't lying Daddy, we weren't."

"You snuck around and lied to us. You could have easily told me the truth when I gave you the chance. I'm not even as angry as I should be, Rachel. I understand that you're going to be curious, and I hoped we prepared you for taking that step—but I am so hurt that you would openly lie to me. I feel like I can't trust your word anymore. If your father or I wind up leaving the state, you will be checked on periodically by Mrs. Byers next door. You will not be allowed to go out with Santana, or anyone else for that matter. You will go to school, stay for after school activities and come home. If I speak with any of your teachers and I find out you skipped class, or were even late, I will personally start picking you up."

Rachel only nodded.

"I will not take your cell phone. But if I find out you're disobeying anymore of my rules, I'm taking that too. Rachel, we have no problems with who you like. We have no problems in you exploring your sexuality, nor with you dating anyone you deem fit. But since you have to lie and scheme to be with your girlfriend, you will not be able to do any of these things until you are mature enough to handle the responsibilities that come with those things. Do you understand?"

Rachel only nodded, not letting the tears in her eyes fall before being dismissed. She trudged up to her room and grabbed her cell phone. She sent her text and lay down on her bed to sulk.

000 0000 000

Santana got her text on the ride home, her parents quiet in the front seat. She was angry at them, steaming that they thought it necessary to tell her secret. She read the text again, the quick 'meet me at lunch Monday' made her smirk. She was going to continue to do as she pleased; she was never in trouble too long.

"Ana, we are keeping you home tomorrow. You will visit with Dr. Jennings to talk about your final decision."

"What? What about it, nothing changed."

"Santana, if you can't be adult enough to make the right decisions, we aren't sure you are ready to make such an important decision like this one. He will see you tomorrow and you can go back to school on Tuesday."

She rolled her eyes.

"You have no right to be upset, Ana. Had you told us that the two of you were dating, you could have easily avoided this…"

"_Whatever_."

"Don't take that tone with your father, Ana."

"This is bullshit. We had sex, so what? Why is it such a big deal? Most girls don't even wait as long as I did; if I was a guy you'd be patting me on the back—I'm over this double standard crap—"

"Santana!"

The car quieted. Her mother never raised her voice; ever. She sat back, her arms still crossed over her chest.

"Don't be disrespectful. You are not a boy, you are a _young lady_. I will not tolerate this kind of behavior from my daughter. _**Period**_. We've been completely understanding for too long, and we gave you room for too long to make your own decisions. Your behavior brings into question every privilege you've ever earned. You had sex. You had sex under the guise of a platonic relationship behind our backs. You lied to us, when you understand the right way to do things, you will be allowed to get back to formally introducing us to your girlfriend. And wipe that smirk off your face."

000 0000 000

"**Santana. We need to talk about your surgery decision." **

Dr. J was sitting in front of her, her parents sitting outside talking to the intake nurse as usual. She honestly didn't know anymore about what she was going to do.

"If you use the tissue off my penis to make me…function or whatever—how close will it be to the real thing?"

"**Well, Santana, if the nerve endings adapt, it will stay erogenous. You could get pleasure similar to what you currently feel, if you feel any now, and you could possibly have a very healthy sustaining sex life in the future." **

"How long will that take?"

"**Well…there is a copious amount of healing time to take into account. You will have stitches that need to heal, and the skin grafts will have to settle, we have to make sure you can use the bathroom without hitch or infection. A few months of healing is a safe bet." **

"And if that stuff doesn't happen, I will basically lack a sex drive?"

"**Not necessarily. You will lack a functioning clitoris. You will need to find other ways to better prepare yourself for sexual intercourse. All won't be lost, however." **

"What happens if I keep both?"

"**Well you will keep full functioning of your penis, as well as full use of your vagina. We see no abnormal growths or testicular tissue, and your female reproductive organs are not threatened. Your penis is still growing however, so you may see changes. Your hormone levels might fluctuate for a few months, but once you stop growing it should stabilize again."**

"So if I keep both…it's a win-win?"

"**Well, somewhat. You don't have to bother with the repercussions of the surgery. You will continue to go through puberty, and eventually level out. I don't know what it means for your psychological development, or your self image, Marian would better fit to help with that, but scientifically, there is nothing wrong with keeping things they way they are, as your body is built for your kind of anatomic differences." **

"What about babies?"

"**Well, your vagina and all of your reproductive organs are intact and functioning almost normally. You may run risks of atopic births, but we won't be sure until you actually decide to go through with a pregnancy. You can't do anything silly like get yourself pregnant, however—you may send more testosterone to the fetus during birth; which may have side effects. But you will never be able to produce semen, so overall you would probably have as risky a birth as your mother had with you, but once again, we won't know until you're ready to take that step." **

Santana sat in front of him. She stared around the office she had gotten so accustomed to, into the face of her lifelong doctor, her confidant.

"I think…I think I am going to stay how I am."

"**Just make sure this decision suits you. Make sure you take into account all of the things you've realized, and let me know. I will keep the appointment; if you show up, we will go through with it, if you don't, then so be it." **

She nodded and stood from her chair, walking out of the office for what she felt like would be the last time.

000 0000 000

Tuesday fell abruptly in her lap, the happenings of the weekend still fresh on the precipice of her mind. It was the last week of school before Christmas break, and Santana had texted her late Sunday night, letting her know she'd be at the doctor on Monday and that she would be back to meet her during lunch the following day. Rachel was going insane having her fathers all involved in her schedule, and she was honestly waiting for school to hurry up the night before so she could talk to Santana. They met in the first floor handicapped bathroom, locking the door before coming together in a thrash of fingertips and rough kisses. Santana pulled back first, staring hard at Rachel, speaking aloud in the quiet of the room.

"I'm not going through with surgery. I didn't notice how nervous I was about it."

Rachel just shook her head.

"I'm grounded for a month. But I was thinking, if I can sneak over to Brittany's you can just come pick me up and drop me off the next morning. She already said it would be okay…"

"Yea we will figure it out."

They were staring at each other, swallowing the other whole with glances.

"We have a half hour…left in lunch I mean…"

She lifted Rachel up onto the sink, snaking her panties under her thumbs as she dragged them down.

000 0000 000

"Come on, Puck—you know her better than anybody else."

"Finn, I'm the Puckerone. She digs me. She doesn't do boyfriends. Ever man."

"I'm not even trying to go out with her. I just want to—you know, repair my rep."

Puck laughed.

"Well get that early arrival thing handled, dude."

"Look—you used to sneak into her room Mondays right? How far did you guys go? She played me man, in front of the whole school. I need payback."

"Payback? Dude, you don't do revenge against Santana Lopez. She'll like, castrate you. Just let this one go."

"Rachel told me she's dating some chick."

Puck averted his eyes.

"You know who she is? Man, spill it."

"I don't know who it is—"

"It's Santana isn't it? That's who we were talking about—then you go all Jew guilty on me. Man it makes so much sense."

"Dude, you're wro-"

"Thanks Puck—I'll be back on top in no time!"

He watched as his giant friend ducked out of his room, leaving him there to officially shit his pants.

000 0000 000

Wow that took me forever… I did some cuts, so it's not as long as it should have been. Next chapter gets into the last two lunchtime rendezvous before the Christmas breaks. It also deals with the Finn Revenge that may or may not blow up in his face… Look forward to disobedient kids and fun kinky sex. Review!


	15. Chapter 15

Happy New Year!

Chapter 15

She was wet for the entire morning. It was so slick in her underwear she was trying her best to distract her obvious discomfort. There was a thumping intensity between her thighs, strong enough to prompt her into checking for wet spots she may have been leaving behind on her desk chairs. She knew the impending holiday break would throw her into solitude, her fathers not budging on allowing her to see Santana; but she was prepared to see her at lunch, and maybe even skip a class later in the day to see her again.

Her libido was out of control.

The anticipation of meeting her girlfriend in the handicapped bathroom during their lunch period was driving her body into frenzy. She'd even gotten to school early, wiping down the bathroom once the janitor finished his rounds, making sure no pesky bacteria lurked while her and Santana had sex.

_**Sex**_. The thought alone was exhilarating. She found herself relishing the memories she had from previous sessions, closing her eyes as she rubbed the back of her neck she squeezed her legs together. She ground her thighs; trying to grate enough friction on her swollen clit to ease the tension. Those memories would have to come in handy for the entire two weeks she would be away from Santana. Of course the one thing she wasn't allowed to have would be at the forefront of her mind. She was anxiously tapping her pen against her notebook. She didn't feel like listening to her teacher drone on about verb tenses.

By the time she started chewing on her pen cap, the bell buzzed. She flew from her chair, not bothering to look behind her as she made her way to the handicap bathroom. She knew Santana would already be there, listening for her to grab the handle. She pushed past the throngs of students making their way to class before pulling hard on the metal handle to the bathroom. Santana was standing there, filing her fingernails against the support bar near the toilet. Rachel locked the door behind her, dropping most all of her books to the floor before running and hopping onto Santana.

Santana reacted quickly, folding her arms under Rachel's bottom and swiveling them around until Rachel's back was pinned against the wall behind her. She supported the tiny diva on the bar, pushing against her as she worked her spanks and special underwear down her thighs. She pulled at Rachel's panties until they gave way and rolled them down to her knees before they fell to the floor. Rachel looked between them, noticing how hard Santana was, her thickness a little more enticing than normal. Rachel wasted no time. They had about thirty minutes before they'd have to clean themselves up and make it to their respective classes. She grabbed Santana's girth as Santana gripped the support bar and kissed her. She felt the head of Santana's penis penetrate, and all she could do was mewl into her open mouth.

Santana slid in, pushing in to the hilt, sliding almost all the way out before slamming upward into her. Rachel's entire body jerked up upward, Santana grinding into her frantically, the rhythm they were keeping was fast, Rachel could feel herself swelling, she could feel the heels of her flats digging into Santana's lower back. She couldn't close her mouth, the audible 'O's floated from her throat into Santana's ear. Santana was digging into her, touching something sacred; Rachel began to come undone. She felt the pressure building as Santana pounded into her, the angle they were in helping the Cheerio hit Rachel's clit as she stroked into her. Rachel's arms tightened at their perch around Santana's shoulders, Santana was sweating; panting into the crook of Rachel's overheated neck. They were rocking together, Rachel so tightly sprung she felt like if she came, she'd pass out. Santana snaked her hands under Rachel's knees, holding her up as she continued her stroke. She didn't know how long she could go without finishing. She was pumping into Rachel, slamming into a particularly ridged spot. Rachel's intake of breath was enough to know how far inside Rachel Santana had been. She angled harder into the next time, trying to keep her balance and keep Rachel upright as she rubbed against her g-spot.

Santana was going to finish. She was going to finish soon and deep inside of her girlfriend. She closed her eyes, trying her best to focus on keeping up the pace and direction of her thrusts. Rachel was shaking, trying her best not to scream at what Santana was doing to her body. Santana pushed in again, and every nerve in Rachel's body caught fire. She could feel her climax build and pop inside her, her insides seemingly vibrating around Santana's penis. Santana tumbled into her orgasm behind her, pumping quickly into her as she emptied inside of Rachel. They came down at the same time, Rachel standing against the sink as Santana went to wipe herself off.

"So what are you doing last period?"

Santana just smiled.

000 0000 000

It had been four days into break. Santana was home alone, walking around the house in her boxer shorts and sports bra, singing random tunes at the top of her lungs. She was absolutely bored. Everything she did lasted only minutes at a time before she'd move on to the next activity. She'd eaten three times that day, played with her mother's Wii, tried doing homework and watched three movies. The doorbell snapped her out of her trance, and she sprinted over to answer it, hoping for the company.

She swung open the door, wincing when Finn strode past her, walking uninvited into her living room, and sitting on the couch. She closed the door noisily before walking into the living room with her arms crossed.

"Excuse me Finnegan—what the fuck are you doing at my house?"

Finn stretched his arms over the back of the couch, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Come, Santana, have a seat."

He patted the couch next to him. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Get to the point or get out of my house.

A flash of something glazed across the giant boy's face. It was the classic face he had when he was about to be manipulative, but was morally bound to being that all American good guy. Santana didn't feel like waiting to see what would happen. She tapped her bare foot impatiently, waiting as the emotions played out on Finn's face.

"Well, ever since you ruined my reputation at school, I've been…paying attention to a lot of things happening… And I'm giving you a chance to save face before I… out you."

She laughed.

"Whatever Finnocence, get out before I call the cops."

"Alright Santana. I guess I should just send that text to Ben-Israel."

She was interested.

"What text?"

"The one that outs you as a lesbian."

"Whatever—"

"Look; either help me build my rep back up, or everybody knows before school starts back up. _**And**_ they'll know who you've been gay… with."

"Who Brittany? Come on Frankenteen—Britt and I haven't boned since she's been banging Dr. X. And besides, everyone already knows we hooked up occasionally."

"I'm not talking about Brittany."

He looked smug. He looked like the idiot who figured out the round rock could roll. She wanted to slap the look off his Neanderthal face.

"Who are you talking about then?"

Finn smiled. In any other circumstance, it would be that adorable, you can trust me smile. But Santana knew better. Finn got away with so much because he played the nice guy card. But that full shit eating grin he was sporting now irritated every fiber of her being.

"Who are you talking about then?"

He chuckled.

"Look. We both know, I know. Now… maybe we can give a go at fixing my rep. Come have a seat, Santana."

And then he leered at her. It infuriated her. Before she could catch herself, she was pulling him up and pushing him toward the front door. He was stuttering, sputtering his words in choppy warnings. She shoved him hard before closing and bolting her front door. She turned to walk away when she heard him screaming through the hardwood.

"Fine then! Everybody will know you're dating Rachel!"

She froze.

End of chapter 15

A/N: The crap is hitting the fan now. This is a filler chapter, more things will be happening in the upcoming chapters. Please read and review!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

She swung open the door after a few moments. He was standing there, smiling as wide as his cheeks would allow, waiting to be invited back inside. She moved out of the way, letting him saunter in before shutting the door again.

"Why would I date Manhands?"

"Look—I already know, so drop the crap, Santana. I know for a fact that you two have been going out—and you can't convince me otherwise."

He started pacing.

"All you have to do is repair my rep. I lose my V-Card, your secret stays quiet. You do it all the time right?"

Her face was burning. He was towering over her, his hands coming to rest on the balls of her shoulders. Her arms were still crossed, she knew if she let them down at her sides she would deck the jolly green giant. He began rubbing her arms.

"Look Santana, it's simple. Let's just go to your room and do the deed. You tell everybody what a stud I am… nobody knows about you and Rach. Same thing as last year—do it for our reps. We could be on top at school."

She was squinting at him. Her mouth was a thin line of contempt, her tan cheeks fiery red; her ears burning. How could he? How dare he? Given, she thought to herself, she never stopped the rumors from flying. She took years to build the reputation she had, if only to ward off people from her biggest secrets.

"I thought you loved Berry? I thought you were trying to get her back and all that bullshit. What changed? Seems pretty low for you to be blackmailing me—ME of all people when you don't even know half the story. What—did you guess I was dating her? No, you're too stupid for that."

"Don't call me stupid! I do love her. But it sucks—because she's gay and for some reason she likes you—"

"Who told you we were dating, Finnocence? Maybe I just popped her cherry. Maybe she's a good lay—"

His face contorted. He looked like every emotion he could have was flashing simultaneously across his features. She could see panic; she could see regret, fear, confusion and even a big hint of anger.

"Rachel's not like that. She wouldn't give up her virginity that way. It means something to her. She's not like _**you**_."

Something snapped inside of Santana.

"Like _**me**_? Like _**ME**_? Right and you're not the one in here making solicitations for forced sex. Kiss my ass, Hudson. Tell the school what you think you know—Since you obviously don't know shit."

"I'm not making salutations for sex."

Santana rolled her eyes at his stupidity.

"Look- all you have to do is sleep with me. You did it for all the other guys. And like you said, you and me on top—we could rule the school." 

He grabbed her wrist.

"Now come on…" He began pulling her toward the couch.

Santana stood still. Her anger was bubbling into something uncontrollable. She snatched her arm away, backing up before pointing a finger into his face.

"I'm not having sex with you. No matter what dirt you think you have on me—I don't care. Get out of my house, and don't come back. And if I hear that you said _anything_ to _anyone_ about _**anything**_… I'll have your balls for lunch."

She realized then who'd told Sasquatch about their relationship. She knew Brittany wouldn't tell Finn anything—especially when Britt knew Santana's newfound hatred for the boy. That only left one person. Finn was standing there, his mouth open, hands at his sides. He knew better than to cross that tone. His shoulders sagged and he walked toward the front door.

"Look. Santana. I didn't mean it the way it came off. But you gotta understand…I'm losing everything at the same time. Sam has my quarterback position, you have Rachel, my rep is ruined. I'm tired of feeling like such a loser. You can understand that…right? Wanting to be on top?"

She chuckled.

"Get out. And tell Puck, if he decides to talk to other people about my business… I'll scrap his nuts with a potato peeler."

She made a point to slam the door behind him; walking to her cell phone to call Rachel.

000 0000 000

She had done everything on her syllabus until May. She had nothing else to do but study, her house was empty in the daytime, and she had to be home to answer the phone once an hour for Mrs. Byers to call and check up on her. Her fathers would be home at seven, and she would be sitting at the dinner table picking at whatever they decided to order out for. She watched several of her musicals, arranged dozens of songs for Glee mash-ups and planned her outfits for the next four weeks. Her dance classes and most of her charitable work was on hiatus until after the holidays, and she found herself texting and calling Santana more often than she thought she would be.

Her doorbell rang.

She knew it wasn't Santana, Mrs. Byers had agreed to be the nosey neighbor, noting when Rachel left the house, when other cars were in the driveway, when people came to visit. She knew Santana wouldn't show up unannounced, simply because the faster they served their time, the quicker they'd be allowed to see each other again.

She jogged over to the door, whipping it open to see someone she hadn't expected to see at her house again.

"Hello, Bella. Can I help you with something?" 

"Can we talk?"

Rachel nodded, allowing room for the girl to come inside. She checked the neighbor's big bay window, gladly noting that she wasn't sitting there. Rachel closed the door and lead Bella to her living room. They both took a seat.

"I know this seems all… out of the blue and stuff. But I had to talk to you. I didn't know what Dave was going to do at the bowling alley, I swear. And when I found out all the stuff he's been doing at school…I felt so bad. I didn't know about any of it."

"Well that's fine, Bella. I don't blame you for what your brother does. Now if that's all…"

Rachel stood, but Bella brought her hand to her wrist to pull her back down.

"I'm not done."

Rachel nodded.

"I have been avoiding you. My dad found out what was happening with us and he flipped. When he found out Dave's been acting out in school because he likes some gay kid; he's been all homophobe."

"Karofsky's gay?"

"That's not important, Rach. Look, my dad calmed down since then, and I've decided to come out to him. We talked about it, and he's not as upset anymore. I mean, he thinks he did something wrong because both his kids are gay and all… and that me and Dave are going to burn in hell… but—he's not going to force us to be anything that we're not. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have just stopped talking to you…but I would have gotten into trouble. Seeing how hard my dad came down on Dave, I was really scared. Like he threatened to throw him out, I was just so… I'm sorry."

Bella took a deep breath, her green eyes glinting with unshed tears.

"I really like you, Rachel. And I was wondering if maybe, we can try to be what we were going to be before. For real this time."

She hadn't even noticed that Bella was holding her hand. She didn't know what to say, what to think. A little while ago, she would have jumped at the chance to date her, openly—without thought she would have. But things were different now. She was different and she was in a different kind of situation.

Bella Karofsky had missed out on her chance. She was a beautiful girl, and the relationship that was developing was promising; but Rachel was sure that her relationship with Santana was worth more. She'd never found herself in this predicament. She was never the commodity to anyone, let alone two different people. She smiled a sad smile at Bella, before pulling her hand away to brush her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I can't…"

"Why? I know that ignoring you was wrong, I came to apologize. I mean, was I—was I an experiment, are you not…into girls?"

"No, no, Bella… you're great. Had this been over a month ago I probably would have agreed to give us a try. But I've been seeing someone since then…and it's been getting pretty serious."

Bella frowned. Her slender pointed nose bunched up, and she was running her hands through her dark brown hair.

"Who is it? Did you get back with that Finn guy? Is it even a guy?"

"No I'm not back with Finn. Look, I have a girlfriend now. And I think… I think I love her."

Rachel didn't realize the words were pouring from her mouth until they fell. She wanted to grab them up and shove them back inside. She wasn't really ready to come to terms. But she'd said it, and the realization made her nervous, suddenly. Bella broke her from her thoughts.

"I'll respect that, Rachel. I'm not that kind of person… I would never… break up a happy home. Promise something though?"

Rachel nodded.

"We can still be friends…"

Rachel nodded again, giving Bella a platonic squeeze after they both stood up.

She walked her to the door, and said her goodbyes. She heard her phone vibrating on the coffee table, grabbing it before it stopped shaking she quickly called Santana back.

000 0000 000

She had convinced her parents that she was going to Pucks. Rachel had done the same, and Santana picked her up from their usual bus stop before driving over to meet him. Santana walked in, hugging Ms. Puckerman before jogging upstairs to find Puck. Rachel followed quietly behind, waving hello to inhabitants of the house before catching up to Santana. When she walked into Noah's room, Santana had a knee to Noah's crotch and a hand full of his t-shirt in her bunched fist.

"What else did you tell the iron giant about me and Rachel?"

"I didn't tell him shit—he figured that shit out."

"Were you giving him hints, fucktard?"

"San, I can't breathe…"

She stood up, straightening out her clothes before putting her hands on her hips.

"He was complaining about his rep and crap. He said something about getting you back and he put two and two together."

Santana scowled at him.

"That's all he knows, right?"

"Look I told you I'm not going to tell anybody about your schlong. That'll ruin _my_ rep."

He looked between the two of them, then focused on Santana.

"What did he do?"

"He tried to get me to have sex with him."

"I'll kill him."

"Don't even worry about it, it's taken care of. I just wanted to know who the hell's been telling Frankenteen about my business."

Puck shrugged, picking up his guitar and sitting at his computer desk.

"Hey, Puck… mind if Rachel and I use your bathroom for a few minutes?"

"No way—I'm not letting you bone in my bathroom."

The glare she sent him changed his mind immediately.

000 0000 000

They were parked outside the bus stop, waiting for Rachel's curfew to come before Santana dropped her off a few blocks from her house. They'd had a quickie in Puck's bathroom before making they're way back to Santana's car.

"Bella came over today…"

Santana stared straight ahead.

"So… what did she want?"

"She came to apologize. We talked and—"

"And now you two are going to give it another chance? Figures."

She started the engine.

"It figures you would think that. But I told her I was in a relationship… we are going to be friends though."

Santana shut off the engine.

"Friends… really, Rachel? _Really_?"

"As you know, I don't have many friends, Santana. So I'd love to keep the ones who befriend me willingly."

Santana shook her head, starting the engine and pulling off after checking her mirrors. They drove in silence, resuming the conversation at the first red light they pulled up to.

"It just seems odd, she doesn't want to be your friend, Rachel. She wants to get in close so she can strike if I ever mess up."

"Stop being so insecure, Santana. I made my decision clear that that can't happen. I doubt she sits idly by being my friend, all the while torturing herself. She knows where we stand."

"If she crosses a line…"

"She won't."

"Hey, Rachel…"

"Yes, Santana?"

"Was that our first fight?"

They smiled all the way home.

A/N: I feel like I'm in a writing mood. I may put up Dirty Fingers III and another prompt fill I was personally asked to fulfill (Santana/Will). I have a story that I have been handwriting entitled Lonely Children (Features: Rachel, Santana, Quinn and maybe (A BIG MAYBE) Mercedes). Thanks for all they great reviews, I've never had a story do so well when it comes to feedback. It makes me want to make sure these stories stay as entertaining.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Some awkward teen moments ahead! I'm snowed in and this cabin fever inspired my productivity in typing up this chapter. Please review!

Chapter 17

"Did you guys… _**do it**_?"

"That's kind of personal."

"I mean… I don't want to know about you know, your experience—no thanks. I just want to know… you know… its girl sex. It's different. I want to know, like, is it worth it? Did it live up to your expectations? "

Rachel shrugged.

"So you did do it! Were you nervous? Was it gross?"

"It was…perfect for us. I guess. I definitely wouldn't change anything about it."

"I wonder if it'll be different than it is with a guy…"

"You had sex with a guy? When?"

Bella blushed.

"Yea. A couple of weeks ago. I-I wanted to know if I was…sure. It grossed me out a little."

"Oh."

Rachel turned back to the television, eating cherries to distract herself from the conversation. She didn't want to continue, afraid that Bella might ask more questions.

"You ever like someone you're not supposed to?"

Rachel turned to her, the 'Hmmm' she replied with vibrating in her throat.

"You heard me. Have you?"

Rachel swallowed the remnants of her cherry, staring straight ahead before answering her companion.

"It's happened to me quite a few times actually." _Finn_, _Jesse_, _Noah_, _Santana_…

"Do you give in? To the temptation I mean."

"In the past…I have."

"Oh…"

Bella's face was suddenly too close to hers, and Rachel suddenly couldn't breathe. She felt like it was one of those moments. She hated _**those**_ moments. The moments she seemed to find herself in when she had to make a moral choice, and she always chose incorrectly. And she sulks after realizing what she should have done, what she planned on doing … and she always went against the right thing.

Bella was staring between her eyes and her lips, her clear green eyes darting between the two places, lingering on where Rachel's chest hitched when she inched a little closer, before speaking:

"You can kiss me if you want to."

Rachel leaned back, straightening her skirt and cleared her now dry throat.

"Bella, I think you should leave. You've put me in a compromising situation and I think it's best that we don't see each other for a while. You seem to disregard and disrespect my feelings and you are crossing line that is dividing our friendship."

Bella stood, took four steps toward the door before turning around.

"I'm sorry Rach, I thought it would be easier. I can't not like you that way."

She watched her leave, blowing air out of her cheeks when the door clicked shut.

_**That was close.**_

She wasn't used to this feeling. She felt like she did the right thing. But she felt like she lost an opportunity. How many chances at this would someone like her get? But all she could really think about was what she had with Santana. She was happy with her, even though they couldn't see each other like they wanted. She was usually so smitten with anyone who gave her attention. The feeling of someone liking her that way was intoxicating. It was baiting. But she didn't fall for it this time. Because she had Santana. Rachel smiled.

**000 0000 000**

"So… you got like both? Like, you don't have balls or anything right?"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Puck, I have both. Get all your weirdo questions out before I get bored with this awkward conversation."

"Well. Since you're cool with it—is it normal size? Or is it like a little misshapen nub?"

She slapped him playfully.

"Shut up. And you saw it that night you caught me and Rachel."

He took a swig of his beer. Her parents had gotten off her case three days into her "Punishment". They knew they wouldn't be able to monitor what she did most nights since they were working. As long as the Berrys' didn't call and complain about her seeing Rachel she was free to do as she pleased. She found herself in Puck's room, his mother and little sister off at some random Girl Scout event.

"Well it wasn't like, _**up**_, or anything. You covered up pretty quick."

He was silent for a moment.

"Tan Tan…is it bigger than mine?"

"Don't call me that, Puckerman. And yea, it's fuckin' huge. Doc says it's still growing."

She crushed her own beer can, throwing it and making it into Puck's nearly over flowing trashcan.

"Bullshit! Let me see it—"

He was tugging at her belt, trying to undo it enough to unzip her jeans.

"Ew, no. And besides, it don't count if it's not hard."

"You never measured it?"

"No, did you measure yours?"

"Hell yea! It's like a rite of passage for dudes."

"I'm not a dude."

He stood up, walking to his computer desk before pulling out a drawer and rifling through the mess. He pulled out a ruler, a long, metal one, and handed it to her.

Santana laughed. She turned around in her spot on the floor, and put the ruler behind her on his bed.

"I'm not going to measure it now."

"Come on—I'll do mine too."

Puck stood up, undoing his pants.

"Come on—keep your pants on Puckerman, this is weird."

"Look be proud of your junk. I'm not lookin' at your junk, and you already seen mine plenty of times. I just want to see if mine is bigger. Come on."

She sighed, standing up after he pulled her into a standing position. She turned her back to him, unbuttoning her pants enough to pull out.

"Give me another beer Puck."

She chugged her beer, throwing it toward the vicinity of his trashcan, and tried her best to think about stuff to get it up. Fifteen minutes in silence passed before Santana leaned down to grab the ruler.

"Seven and three quarters."

"Bullshit. Let me see."

Puck turned around to get a glimpse at the ruler Santana had scaled next to her penis.

"It's thicker than yours too-"

She heard Puck zip up his pants before she stuffed herself awkwardly into her own jeans.

"Whatever, Lopez. You can't say you have bigger balls than me."

They sat back on the bed together, Puck handed her another beer before falling back against his pillows. She couldn't remember how many she had since she been there, and the last can she chugged was making her dizzy. She opened the can and sipped it anyway.

"So what's going on with you and Rachel? Is she your girl?"

"Yea, why—you jealous?"

"Nah… she's my friend ya know? She's kinda cool. Don't fuck it up."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"I got this, Puck."

She sat her now half can of beer on his bedside table, falling back beside Puck. She closed her eyes, relaxing on his football team blankets. She would have drifted off to sleep had it not been for the butterfly touches she felt along her neck. She waved away the feeling, deciding that Puck was probably trying to tickle her awake. She was swimming in her sudden intoxication, realizing that a strong hand was brushing over the hairs of her stomach and down her somewhat bulged jeans. With balance she didn't know she had she slipped off the bed and stood up, swaying momentarily on her feet before finding her immediate sobriety.

"What the fuck? Don't pull that shit with me, Puck!"

He had this nervous look about him, he was looking up at her, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pouted. He leaned up on his palm, straightening and slumping his shoulders in the same motion.

"I thought you were sleep."

Santana crossed her arms.

"Puck…are you gay?"

"No—no man I'm not into dudes. I mean, I never was before. Not that you're a dude, but…it bothers me that I'm still attracted to you and you got extra parts…and I was curious."

He was standing, rubbing the back of his neck and searching for the invisible pockets of his basketball shorts.

"I mean, it's cool if you are, Puck. I'm just, this is catching me off guard."

"It's over, Lopez, let's just blame it on the alcohol."

Puck sat down, rubbing his thighs with his palms, and shifting in his computer chair.

"I think I'm going to go home…"

"Come on, don't be stupid let's just watch the movie—"

"It's cool, I just want to sleep in my own bed."

"Santana, you're drunk."

"I'll catch the bus."

"Whatever."

**000 0000 000**

She walked to Rachel's house instead. She called when she was outside, checking over her shoulder for that nosy old hag next door.

"Are your Dads home?"

"No they're in Cincinnati. Come through the back door and make sure her window light doesn't come on."

Santana dodged behind most of the shrubbery in Rachel's backyard. She got to the back door, finally walking inside her kitchen where Rachel was standing, her phone still in her hand.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Apparently they had a lot to do tonight.

End of Chapter 16.

A/N: Next chapter goes into details with the talk that they obviously need to have. It also starts the beginning of the new school semester. Some ConfusedPuck is in store, as well as someone from Glee Club finding out about Santana/Rachel. You probably can't guess who… So emotions and angst are in the next chapter. Let's go see if I can type up these other updates I have sometime this weekend. *Crosses fingers*

Please read and review.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I'M BACK! So I'm staying away from the current storyline of glee. The Valentine's Day and Superbowl ep didn't happen in this universe. Finn will be making a return to the story as well. I noticed some mistakes in the past few chapters that I will start fixing and reposting soon (like the fact that Puck was wearing jeans and miraculously had on basketball shorts by the end of the chapter). Next chapter deals with some therapy for Rachel and Santana, as well as some more of the Bella/Karofsky story. There will also be some talk about Santana's surgery to come soon too. Oh, and hopefully smut. It took me a while to get this chapter out, because there is a lot of serious dialogue. Hopefully I did an okay job with keeping my characters canon.

Thanks to all who have reviewed, favorite and alerted this fic. And thanks to all the people who emailed me to spur me on to keep up with my fic.

Please, read and review.

Chapter 18

She hadn't spoken to Puck since the night she left him drunk in his messy bedroom. He'd texted her multiple times during the break, and even went through the trouble to leave a hesitant voicemail. He found her before chemistry, leaning against the door frame with his usual mask of disinterested cool. She almost walked past him, but his hand darted out to claim her elbow; she stopped—annoyed.

"What Puck?"

He let go of her arm and pushed his thumbs under the straps of his backpack.

"Can we talk about what happened, Santana?"

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Nothing happened, Puck. I'm over it. It's done."

"Well I'm not. Can we just talk during lunch?"

The bell buzzed.

"Can't gots plans."

"Come on, Santana. I feel really shitty. I just want to—I just need to explain…"

Santana bit down on her lip, uncrossing her arms in silent surrender.

"Fine."

He nodded, walking backwards with a knowing quirk of his lips.

000 0000 000

She was excited for the new semester. She'd been terribly bored over break, and she couldn't wait for classes and extra curriculars to dominate most of her schedule again. More importantly, she couldn't wait to see Santana. They hadn't seen each other since Santana staggered into her kitchen; drunk. She had every intention of talking to her about Bella, but Santana's wandering hands dismissed all thoughts of productive communication. She'd spent most of their break avoiding the conversation, finding so many other things to talk about and _**do**_ over the phone. She'd been excited about seeing her girlfriend during lunch but as she stared at the text message during her AP English class, she was upset that she'd have to wait until Glee.

Lunch was next period. She was dreading having to find somewhere to sit, as well as finding adequate food to eat since she hadn't packed a lunch. She let out a sigh as the bell buzzed, and she slowly started her walk toward the cafeteria. When she finally arrived, she settled on a plain salad and took a seat not too far from where the glee kids were sitting. She hadn't asked to sit with them since most of them had easily taken Finn's side after their breakup. Noah was nowhere around, and she knew Santana was off doing something else with her lunch period. She sighed, snapping a carrot in half before bringing it to her mouth.

"Mind if I sit here?"

That voice was definitely familiar.

"Bella?"

000 0000 000

They were by the football field sitting beneath the bleachers, the silence between them louder than the howling wind. He was toying with the loose strings on his hoodie sleeve, staring into the parking lot they were facing.

"I'm not gay."

Santana smirked, pulling her hat down lower to stop her eyes from tearing from the cold.

"Don't laugh, Santana. I'm being serious right now."

She immediately straightened. Puck rarely got serious with her anymore. She waited.

"Look, I know you think I'm a jerk for trying what I did. I was tipsy—"

"That's not an excuse to—"

"Let me finish. I've been kind of going through a lot of stuff. Ever since Quinn and Juvie…I've been having these…_feelings_."

He was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he spoke, his eyes avoiding her steady gaze. He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. She wanted to comfort him, but she knew if she didn't give him a chance to talk, he'd deflect and crawl back into himself.

"You know, this summer, Quinn and I dated. Well, I'd been trying to get some action. And not that pansy over the bra under the shirt, bull. I even convinced her that I got a vasectomy… and that I couldn't get her pregnant. Well we were making out, and she was all horny from the hormones, she was going to let me go all the way. But I couldn't get it up—"

"Is that why you…."

"Just _listen_, Santana. Well we blamed it on the excitement of anticipating it too long and we tried again. Nothin. It was a problem for a while, and she broke up with me before school. She said the guilt was the penance for her being a cheater, or some crap. I never _missed_ a girl before. Like, we _lived_ together, San. I sorta loved her. I started doing stupid stuff to get attention. You know, setting shit on fire…punching cops. Nobody cared about me, or what happened to me. I didn't know how to handle anything. Well…you know that Monday before I got locked up? I decided to pay you a visit. I mean if you couldn't get me up—no one could. But you did. And after you bit me…"

He turned to look at her for the first time then, nostalgically smirking in her general direction.

"I kind of just climbed out your window with my tail between my legs. That's when I realized that I fell out of love with Quinn. Being with you was like coming home, San."

He bumped her shoulder, his thumbs gripping the edges of his jean pockets.

"But you know we can't be that way… we aren't allowed to love each other like that, we're too much the same. Well…I got in my mom's Volvo and hit the Seven Eleven. Got wasted and decided it'd be badass to hijack that ATM. Stupid thing was a bitch to open. I even hit it a few times with my Mom's car…"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued.

"Well… I went to juvie. That place sucked. Everybody was huge and they all hated me. My cell mate, Mark, was just like me. He was a badass…but those dudes were _criminals_. Me and Mark stuck together. We got pretty close… and I even,"

He turned his head in both directions before continuing,

"…we even kissed a few times. I kind of liked it. When I found out I was getting out, I sort of blew him off. I mean, _I'm not gay_. But, when I came home…I needed to come find you. I needed proof that I – that I dig chicks. And when I got to your window and I saw you and Rach…then you stood up and I saw it. We grew up together, San. You were my first kiss, my first girlfriend. My best friend. But I couldn't help feel like the only reason I liked you now, was because you secretly had man junk. When we got drunk I was curious. I needed to know if that stuff turned me on. I know I should have just like…talked you about it. But we don't talk like we used to."

It got quiet after that. She had tears in her eyes and she didn't know why. It was so much to take in all at once, and all she could do was stand up and pull at his hands until he stood in front of her. She hugged him, pulling back to look at his face.

"Puck, its okay to like whoever you want."

"That's easy for you to say, San, you're a girl."

"Maybe you can talk to Kurt?"

"No way is this getting out, Lopez. I kept your secret you keep mine."

She shrugged.

"So this Mark guy, do you guys still talk?" Puck nodded.

"He sent me a letter. He's in there till March. He only lives a few miles away from here."

"Will you go see him?"

Puck could only shrug.

000 0000 000

"What are you doing here? Are you stalking me, Bella, because no matter how flattered I am, I can only say that stalking is still highly unsettling."

Bella smiled.

"I told my Dad I wanted to go to a co-ed school. He thinks I'm all out of my gay phase; I'm actually here to try to help Dave. Can I sit down?"

Rachel nodded. She watched the girl unwrap her peanut butter sandwich.

"So where's your girlfriend?"

Rachel scoffed.

"Don't be rude, Bella."

"Seriously Rachel, you should know me better. I'm seriously over my crush, and I made my way over here to say I was sorry. I realized how unfair I was being, and that it was time I moved on. Besides, McKinely has so many closeted lesbians I'll have my pick with the fresh meat."

Rachel chuckled, forking her dry salad into her mouth.

"But seriously, you two don't eat lunch together?"

"Well we are trying to keep our relationship under wraps, I really don't need another reason to be discriminated against and bullied on."

"Got ya. It really does suck here. I saw this kid get a slushy to the face earlier. This school has so many big egos for everyone to be so afraid to be themselves."

Rachel grunted, and swallowed the food in her mouth.

"Very true. On that front I should probably warn you that your brother may slushy me if he finds out we are hanging out together; and in public. And I honestly don't know if I should trust your word, you've already overstepped a boundary."

"I already talked to Dave. We have an understanding. And look, I am seriously apologizing for how things went down. I'm not a sit back and do nothing type person. You can't blame me for going after something I wanted. But… but I took a step back from the situation and I realized that I was being unfair to your girlfriend. If I were in her shoes and I found out stuff like that was happening, I'd freak. So seriously, I'm happy for you Rachel. Before all this stuff happened we were becoming friends. I would really like it if we could get back to that." 

Rachel stared at her for a moment, contemplating her sincerity. She knew how easily things could fall back into place with Bella. They were friends before, and good ones at that. Bella was a cheerful person to be around, but still so ambitious and unrelenting. Admirable things to have in a friend, she surmised. She knew that letting her guard down could potentially set her up for another complicated situation, but she was realizing that Bella Karofsky was a seriously wonderful ally.

"Fine. What's this understanding you have with Karofsky?"

"I have dirt on him. I asked him to not retaliate against you just because we socialize. He's going to back off. I feel like crap for taking advantage of that, but he has seriously got to learn about tolerance. He hates himself so much I hate him for it. I didn't know how many kids he bullied here. Dave's seriously a really great guy."

Rachel nodded. She remembered then why that got along so well. Bella was such an understanding person. Everything she was contradicted the uptight and judgmental family she was raised in. She believed wholeheartedly in herself, and the potential other people had to be better.

"I agree. It's hard for me to come from where I come from and feel safe around him. That kind of rage is bound to explode sooner or later."

"True, but that's why I'm here. I know Dave. I don't know this football player, this big bully. I only know the Dave who'd play with my dolls and sip tea with me and my stuffed animals. Like he's my big brother, and I am the only person who knows everything about him…who doesn't judge him for it. And I know if he ever does go over the top, I'll be here to calm him down."

Rachel nodded. She understood. She had nothing to say, for once, and decided to go along into a different topic.

"Well sitting with me may get you slushied. Social hierarchy rules here."

Bella barked out laughter, startling a few kids at other tables.

"People apparently know who I am already. They are scared of Dave. They won't mess with me. And besides, I don't care about this social pyramid stuff, Rachel. It's for the birds. I always get along with everyone, no matter where I am. And come on, this is high school. I'll be fine."

She nodded again at her. Taking a moment to check her phone for text messages, she smiled when she came across one from Santana. The quick, 'meet me during your free period', made her beam up at the girl sitting beside her.

"So tell me about her? What's she like?"

Her cheeks were burning with the strain of smiling so hard, and she could feel the burn of a blush creeping up her face.

"She's great. I never really thought we would have ever gotten along so well. I like being around her…like all the time. We just sit up late and talk in the dark and it's all so, magical."

"Did you tell her you love her yet?"

"No, I don't know when it's the right time. And my parents have currently locked me in my room until I rehabilitate my behavior."

"Why? What happened?"

"We were going behind everyone's backs. My Dads got upset at me for sneaking around, so I'm grounded for a while."

"So when was the last time you saw her?"

"Like a week ago. I'll see her later during glee though."

"So she's in glee too?"

"Uh, yea." She hadn't meant to let that slip.

"That's cool. I wish I could sing, I hear you guys need members. I was actually thinking about joining the Cheerios."

Rachel blanched.

"Why would you want to? Coach Sylvester is a manipulative slave driver."

"Well, I am already in ballet and gymnastics. And I hear her reputation can put you in a few good colleges. Your girls' basketball team sucks, so that's my only option. But the season is almost over, so I'd just have to try out to sit bench till next year. I'll see what happens. I'm going to head out. Dave said we share a class next period, he's going to show me around. Call me sometime."

She nodded, watching Bella clean her table top and walk out of the cafeteria. Rachel only had two periods to go before she would see Santana.

000 0000 000

She was in study hall. She was sitting next to Brittany passing back notes like they usually did, accompanied by the random games of tic tac toe in the margins. Brittany slid a piece of paper to her.

_You heard about Karofsky's sister transferring? She went to that all girls school on the skirts. _

Santana rolled her eyes. Of course his sister would transfer here. She was just adding to the list of someone else trying to step on her toes. She scribbled her reply.

_**So what? As long as she don't get in my way we good. **_

She slid the paper back over to Brittany. She honestly didn't know how to feel. She hated the nervousness she had knowing that the girl would be in close proximity with Rachel. They were a grade level apart, but she was surprised when she saw the girl introducing herself in one of her AP courses. She was all tan skin and pretty green eyes. It made her want to vomit. She couldn't really tell the relation to Karofsky, though. She was dainty and girly will still managing to be all gay. It was obvious she was a carpet muncher from her wardrobe. She seemed like she'd be all bark and no bite until she started speaking up in class with spitfire questions and confrontational rebuttals. She sort of reminded her of Rachel during glee. Brittany was tapping her arm with the note she'd refolded, Santana took it and opened up a flap.

_Did you know that dragonflies have six legs but can't walk? Mrs. Jenner gave me passing grade for my essay. I wrote it in Dutch. She got it translated and said it actually made sense. I don't understand why they would force me to take English when I'm from America. When are you meeting with Rachel?_

Santana smirked at her best friend. She probably didn't take her medicine that day; the randomness was even evident on paper. She scribbled a reply and checked her phone. She was going to meet Rachel in the handicapped bathroom for the period, choosing to skip Spanish and make up something for Schue later. The minutes were ebbing away like hours. She didn't really know if she wanted to talk to Rachel about the whole Puck thing, or bring up the Bella thing and risk having a fight over it. Of course, they could skip the talking and just have sex… but she knew she probably wouldn't. She was putting effort into her relationship. She'd never been in an honest and open relationship so far. No one's ever known everything about her. She didn't want to ruin it by trying to keep things to herself. She knew more than anyone that most people's secrets usually come out. She picked up the paper Brittany plucked in her direction and opened it up.

_Well have fun! Tell Rachel I said hi, and don't be late for glee. I'm going to tell Mr. Schuester that I want to do a tribute to Cindy Lauper. Me and Tiff are going bowling Sunday, I'm going to try to get Rachel's dad to let her come. _

Santana smiled. She scribbled a quick 'okay' before the bell buzzed, and walked Brittany to her locker before making her way to the handicapped bathroom. Rachel was already inside, sitting on top of a bunch of paper towels folded up on the closed toilet seat.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They smiled at each other for a silly two minutes, and Santana turned to bolt the door and went to Rachel to pull her up into a hug.

"My Dads said I'm ungrounded. I still can't sleep over, but they said we can hang out and stuff as long as we stick to the rules."

"Cool, Britt wants us to go bowling on Sunday."

"Okay."

They kissed.

"Rachel… I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay, I want to tell you something too."

"Go ahead. You go first."

"Don't be silly, Santana, tell me what you were going to say."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Well, um. Puck and I were hanging out that night I came to your house. He kinda tried to feel me up."

"What? Noah?"

"Well, he's having some issues with his sexuality…"

Rachel could only nod.

"Well I just thought I'd tell you. Like we talked about it and everything and it's all cool. He already told me it wouldn't happen again."

"Okay."

"That's it? You're not mad? You're not going to go find Puck and slap him for being a jerk? Give me a lecture- nothing?"

"No. I think you handled the situation rather well. And I know you and Noah have a… history. And he knows about us and he wouldn't do anything to hurt either of us. And besides, I got suspicious that he was confused when I went to see him at the juvenile detention center."

"You went to visit Puck?"

"Well, yes. I made him some cookies. They wouldn't let me actually give him the cookies, something about lacing baking products with marijuana. But yea, I went to see him. He seemed pretty shaken up. But he kept talking about Mark—I knew something was going on."

"Oh, I didn't know you two got along so well."

"Noah and I are get along great, he's actually one of the few glee members who stays loyal to me. Aside from Brittany."

"Yea. So what did you want to tell me?"

"Oh, yes, right. Well. As you know, Bella transferred here, and I –"

"Oh yea, I'm cool with it. I mean I know you guys are friends or whatever."

Santana was trying to come off as understanding. The nervousness in her voice made her sound like she was trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

"Well… last time I saw her, she kind of made a pass at me and I –"

"I'm going to kill her."

"Santana wait, you're over reacting."

"No, I'm really not. I'm going to find that little green eyed freak and ruin her annoying little face."

"Santana listen to me!"

It was quiet in the echoing bathroom.

"She didn't come here for me. She came here for her brother. She apologized already and we are moving on from this. She seriously said she was sorry; she even apologized for being unfair to you. She's already talking about seeing who's available here."

"That's bullshit Rachel. I got over it the first time, because she didn't give me a reason. Now she's hitting on you and thinking she can get away with it. That shit's not cool. So if I see her around school I'm seriously going to break her nose."

"Santana that's not fair. You told me what happened with Puck, I told you what happened with Bella. How can you say in the same conversation that either of us is wrong for wanting to keep our friends?"

"Whatever, Rachel. Just make sure she stays out of my way. I'm going to class. I'll see you in glee."

She walked out before Rachel could stop her.

000 0000 000

Glee quickly ended the day for Rachel. She walked in, settling in her chair and watching as Santana took her usual seat beside Brittany. Mr. Schuester was late as usual, walking in with photocopies of songs for the group. He started talking about assignments and Regionals, and was quickly interrupted by a tap on the door.

"Hi, Mr. Schuester. I'm Bella Karofsky. I was told I could sign up for glee here."

Mr. Schue nodded, putting the papers down on the piano before turning to the dark haired girl in front of the class.

"So, Bella, can you sing?"

"I can carry a tune. I was thinking I'd be a great interpretive dancer if you needed one. And I'm really good with choreography"

"All right, um, have a seat and just blend in today, we will see about setting you up with some voice coaching."

Bella sat down next to Rachel, bumping shoulders as she smiled in her direction. She heard a chair scrape against tile, and watched as Santana abruptly stood from her seat and grabbed her backpack. Mumbling in broken Spanish she stormed out of the room. Brittany followed quickly after her. 

Rachel sighed. 

This would be a long semester.

End of Chapter 18


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Okay everyone. Warning. This chapter may upset a lot of you. Know that Pezberry is endgame and drama is necessary for growth. Extreme angst ahead. Try not to hate me too much! I hope you all like it. Also, this was written between the hours of two and three a.m. And I am not of sane mind. Well not of sane mind to edit. All mistakes are mine.

Please review.

Chapter 19

When she ran out behind her, she instantly found her way to her car. She was punching her steering wheel. The horn was blaring and she was probably attracting attention from the few clubs still left on school grounds, but she didn't look like she cared. She hadn't noticed the door opening until Brittany buckled her seat belt beside her and waited while Santana continued to wail on whatever was in front of her. Santana let out a huff of air, clenched her teeth and counted to ten. She put on her seat belt and pulled out of the parking lot. She hadn't said anything to her, yet.

"She didn't even come out to see if I was okay. What the fuck Britt? What's up with that?"

Brittany frowned at her. She didn't know what to say. Santana never really talked about how she felt when it came to people she's messed around with. She always talked about how hot she was and how much they liked it. She didn't know how to feel really. Santana denied any feelings she had toward her. And she thought that dating Tiff would make her forget about all the things that happened with San before. How she was in that river in Egypt about feelings she had for girls. But now she was having all those feelings with Rachel. And it was kind of making her upset. San always talked about how when they did stuff it wasn't cheating or it didn't mean anything. San never let reciphicate her physically. She had always wanted to.

"San…"

"Yea Britt?"

She took a deep breath.

"Why wasn't I good enough?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

She was looking away from her, the tears kind of a surprise because she didn't really realize she felt this way. She thought she was happy with Tiff. With how things were. And San was so happy now. It was making her upset that she wasn't the one giving her all the happiness.

"Why did you pick Rachel? I mean you're jealous, San. You used to get jealous over me…and now you get jealous over her. I know you let her touch you…I know that you've let her go farther than I have. Why wasn't I good enough?"

Santana wasn't saying anything. She was breathing deep and her eyes were all watery but she wasn't crying. She didn't know what to do. She drove a little while longer without saying anything, and she pulled over to a place near the park they used to feed the ducks at. The trees and the random shrubs hid her car from the main road. She turned off the engine.

Santana looked serious. Like, she was ready to talk about her feelings. Like she needed to tell her something really important.

"Britts… I have something I need to show you, okay? I need to explain something to you because…I—I should have showed you a long time ago because you're my best friend." 

Brittany just nodded. She watched Santana unbutton her pants, pulling them down and yanking her thumb under her tight underwear. Brittany hadn't expected what popped out of the opening.

"Oh my gosh, San, you're an andromonus."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"No—Britt—I was just…born with both."

Brittany wasn't looking away.

"Like… like a boygirl? A he-she?"

Santana shook her head and tucked herself back into her pants.

"Something like that Britt."

Brittany looked at her for a long time. Trying to take in the information Santana had just given her. She stared for moments after, starting at her face and ending back at her still undone pants.

"Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have been grossed out, S… I thought we told each other everything."

Santana frowned.

"I-I was going to get it cut off… and just, be a girl."

She was thinking really hard. She wanted to ask so many questions… but one was more important that the others.

"Does Rachel know?"

Santana shook her head in the positive. She was staring straight forward. And she refused to look in her direction.

"Do you love her, San?"

She shrugged.

"Maybe. Probably."

Brittany hated words. Words were so easily broken. Sometimes they can make you feel better. Sometimes they can crush you to pieces.

"It's not cheating if the plumbing's different right?"

Santana looked her way then. And she knew that she understood what she was trying to say.

"I can't Britt. I can't mess this up."

She thought long again in silence. She chose her next words carefully.

"San. She didn't even call to see if you were okay. She stayed with that Karofsky girl and you're here with me. I need to know if this… if we would have been different. Especially if I can't have you ever again. I want to know, San. How we are… together. You letting me…love you. I want to be able to touch you, to do things you did for me. _Please?"_

000 0000 000

"So she's your girlfriend huh? She's hot."

They'd stayed behind to talk about her vocal coaching. Of course Mr. Schue asked her to do it. And Bella eagerly thanked him for his suggestion.

"Why are you doing this, Bella? I thought you were going to be fair."

Bella sighed.

"I am. I didn't come here to try to sabotage your relationship, Rach. I just found out that Tina was in the glee club, and well, she screams gay—I needed to look disinterested, so I sat with you. I'm totally not going to step on your girl's toes. Speaking of which, why didn't you follow her out?"

Rachel was waiting for that question. She felt bad almost immediately, but she knew it had to be done.

"First off. Tina has a boyfriend. They've been dating for a while now—"

Bella laughed.

"Pish Posh. Technicalities."

Rachel squinted at her, choosing to ignore that particular comment.

"And… no one knows about us. And there is good reason they don't. If I would have ran after her everyone would be suspicious. And… She isn't ready for that."

Bella put on a serious face.

"You're my friend first, Rach. Do you want to be out? Like, if you can't handle her being in the closet… maybe you two should take a break until she's ready to admit to herself that she's gay-"

Rachel stopped her, derailing her train of thought.

"It's not like that, Bella. I appreciate your concern. I just… it's not the right time yet. And we both know why. And I'm not upset about that at all. But she'd kill me if I made a scene right now. She can't afford the backlash."

Bella was looking at her solemnly. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but the slow smile spread across her face.

"Okay. You're a big girl. I won't press the issue. Just be careful. And I apologize. I didn't mean for it come off that way. I'm fully committed to be your friend. I won't cross that line again, scouts honor. I'll even apologize to her!"

Rachel laughed out loud.

"I'd give her a little while. You know, avoid her in the halls, and try not to get in her way. Just until she feels a little better."

Bella laughed then, bumping into her shoulder.

"Got ya. She's a lucky girl. Make sure she treats you right."

She smiled, thinking about calling Santana once she got home.

"She will, Bella. No worries."

000 0000 000

She could never say no to Brittany S. Pierce. It was a known fact. She knew what they were doing was wrong. She knew that it would ultimately hurt Rachel. But she owed this to Brittany. She owed so much to her best friend. And this was the last time…so she gave in. She would worry about the guilt and the regret after. She would decide once and for all if she was supposed to be this way. She would be certain then if she was supposed to be with Rachel. She would know for sure if keeping her entire self from her best friend was the right decision. If canceling the surgery was the right decision.

They were sitting in the back of her coupe; the front seats pushed all the way forward. She was lying slanted on the back seat, Brittany pulling down her pants and underwear in one go. She climbed up her body, making sure not to bang her head on the ceiling as she kissed her. She didn't realize how much she missed her sweet lady kisses. She didn't pull her shirt off; she rolled it up and tucked it under her chin. She was palming her breasts and kissing and nipping small patches of skin. Brittany was sucking and nipping and flicking her tongue at the same time. And she couldn't think anymore about all the things she was doing wrong. She was getting hard, and Brittany was winding her up and keeping her tense. When she crouched down and put her mouth over the head of her penis, her head fell back onto the arm rest. She knew what to kiss… what to bite. What her mouth couldn't reach, her hands made up the distance, the circular motion her head made while it bobbed up and down her penis was making her wet. The hollow in her cheeks was making her harder, if possible. If she let her keep going, she was going to embarrass herself.

Brittany sat directly above her erection; her shoulders crouched while she seductively rolled her hips above her. Brittany's body was so… graceful. Every move was deliberate; she was engaging her with this dance. She was touching her… she was caressing her. It was erotic. It was beautiful. It was closure.

She was stroking her penis, rubbing wet parts of her onto the head. She was kissing her, and rubbing her hands across her breasts, skimming her nipples and setting her nerve endings on fire. She cupped her face, and kissed her full on the lips. And somewhere else, the grinding slowed and she steadied herself above her. They were perfectly aligned; before she could blink, Brittany lowered herself down, hands free, squeezing muscles she didn't know you could contort along her shaft. Then the rhythm changed. She wasn't used to being with someone so… skilled. But her body made its own contributions as they thrust together, hitting the right spots with the pull and push of her thrusting hips, and Brittany's strong, toned thighs.

Her hand was reaching out to cup her breast through her shirt. Brittany's mouth was open, panting perfect moans into the sweat box that was now her car. Her other hand was gripping her bottom, squeezing it as it lifted out of her hand, and touched back down with each stroke. She was completely entranced with the woman dancing so delectably on her lap. She never know how different it could be inside of someone else…

She couldn't tell yet which she liked better.

She promptly pulled out of her and laid her back against the seat. She pushed one of her legs up near her head, and balanced her body weight against it, minding the physics of her midsized car, she pushed into her, deep and wet all the way to the hilt. She managed to pull her other leg high enough to wrap around her neck, and the change in angle was tickling something deep inside her. Brittany was whimpering, and she could feel the swelling. The pockets of something warm building inside of Brittany and squeezing all the stamina out of her. She was pivoting into her, the odd angle forcing her to keep with the pace, short deep strokes into her before she felt the gush… flutter and squeeze of Brittany's orgasm. She could feel the pulse pushing to the forefront, with a few more hard thrusts; she was emptying herself into the tightness she was engulfed in.

And then it was quiet.

000 0000 000

A/N: So I'm sure you all hate me. But things will work out. Hopefully my Brittany isn't too bad- and oops about the POV switch. My omnipresence is showing. Will Santana tell? What will happen in therapy? What about the surgery? There will be a game changing argument as well as the decisions about the surgery. So many questions will be answered soon. And I'm back! Look for a LOT of updates and a few new (and already completed) stories to be uploaded as well.

Please Review.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Some people were confused about last chapter. I was aiming BrittanaFan about what she thought of the update and what themes came across in what I wrote. What she replied with summed up my intentions with the most concise, straightforward clarity. I thought I'd share in case anyone was a bit disappointed:

**BrittanaFan**: _But yeah i understood the san/brit thing, and also rachel/bella, how its just a shitty situation from both sides cause they both had the best of intentions (rachel not wanting to out their relationship by going after her) but san being upset (rightfully so, even tho it wasn't rachel being malicious) and brit just being brit. sans still unsure if she's getting the surgery, and if rachel was only resaon for her to not do it, and now she's thinking rachel and her are maybe over, she needed that experience with another girl (i thnk she did regardless of her/rachel, cause what if they ever broke up etc). i dont think san/brit will stay together, that either of them felt that would be the outcome of their having sex._

So in a nutshell… I bring you angst. I hope you guys are enjoying the fic, and hopefully can appreciate where I'm taking it.

Thank you for all the reviews… criticisms and praise. Everything has been motivating me to post this chapter, which was tougher for me to write. I appreciate any feedback for it.

Chapter 20

She never experienced guilt before. She never imagined it would feel like a seed in the bottom of her belly, floating around on an empty stomach of dread- and suddenly growing all the way up her throat and catching there. She never thought the tears she was holding back would ache until they slipped out with her words. She never felt as wrong as she did now. Sure, she helped plenty of guys cheat. But she'd never felt the emotional backlash attached to it. She never felt the devastation it would do to a relationship. She never had to go home with her tail between legs spewing excuses to a girl she claimed she loved. What they had just done had unclouded all of her doubts; she knew now that she loved Rachel. That she loves Rachel. But she also loved Brittany. Brittany is her best friend; her longest friend- her most important.

They had explored parts of life together that she would cherish forever. She was Brittany's first. And Brittany should have been hers. She hadn't known about Britt's feelings. She hadn't understood the bold statements laced under each of Brittany's "I love you's." She hadn't heard the overtones of confidence; the knowledge of assurance. She hadn't realized that she meant it somewhere deeper. Somewhere further than friendship. And knowing that now didn't change the feelings she had toward Rachel.

She knew now that she wanted Rachel. She knew that it wasn't just a sexual exploration, or experimentation in identity. She liked being this way with Rachel, and she knew that it wasn't just because they were having sex. Sex with Brittany had been different_. It was just sex_. It confirmed how she felt about who she was… and what decisions she had to make about who she was about to become. And she knew now that Brittany would move on, she'd be happy and unobstructed with any formalities of what they were… no confusion over what they could be. She probably ruined what she had with Rachel to give Brittany her closure. But she owed it to her. Brittany deserved that much from her. Brittany deserved the world.

And she guessed Rachel deserved someone better than her.

She fiddled with her fingers and readjusted in her seat. They had been sitting in the silence outside of Brittany's house for almost fifteen minutes. Everything that had been said had been interrupted with something that may go over better… and then silence again. She didn't know what this meant to Brittany. She didn't know what would happen. She didn't know if she could tell Rachel. She understood the guilt now. She understood why people kept these kinds of secrets; why they never admitted to these burdening mistakes. She knew what the right thing was…but she didn't know if she could risk losing everything. She felt like a coward, but she never claimed to be brave.

"San…I think I like girls."

There was more silence. There was a deep breath, a long shuddering inhale and a heavy exhale. She heard Brittany rubbing her sweaty hands against her jeans. She wasn't looking at her still. She didn't know if she could take the evidence of what they had done. She finally turned to look at her. Brittany was staring directly at her, toying with the hem of her shirt.

"Well yea, Britt. We knew that already."

Brittany looked away, her face nostalgic like she was reflecting on a fading memory.

"No, San, I mean I think I _only_ like girls. I've been thinking a lot. About feelings, and I've been working on me. And I think…I think I'm Lebanese."

Santana shook her head. It was fitting, they somewhat used each other for the same confirmations, the same reasons. Only, they had different outcomes. Brittany was gay… and she was just…intersexed.

"Lesbian, Britt. So…so what are you going to tell Tiff?"

Brittany shrugged.

"The truth. I don't think I can be with anybody right now, I mean… I'm just getting to know myself. I'm sorting out everything I want… and everything I don't want. Tiff will be okay with that. She would rather I be sure of myself, and not drag her through all the things I have to work out. I think she'll be ok with us taking a little break. I hope. Are—are you going to tell Rachel?"

She turned her head away from her. Brittany was one of the most confident people she knew. She didn't try to be anything but herself… and here she was, struggling with her sexuality. It made things less difficult. But she wasn't struggling with her sexuality. She was struggling with the confusion that came with who she was about to become, or who she was about to erase.

All she knew was that she wanted Rachel along for the ride.

"I think so…I mean. She'll probably break up with me, go running into that Karofsky chick's arms but… I guess if I lie about it and she found out… it would be worse."

Brittany nodded.

"I think you should too, San. I-I'm sorry. I just had to know if I was in love with you… or just, all the things I couldn't have with you. It's like… when you give Lord Tubbington a ball of yarn, but you hold it too high above his head and he can't reach it. And he wants it so bad… and he can't concentrate on anything else. But when you give it to him… he's kinda bored. Maybe you're just my ball of yarn, San. And Rachel is gonna be all mad at you for a while, and she might think that you were the one to blame. But I-I know how much you care about her, and I'll totally tell her that I manipulated you, San—and maybe she'll forgive you a bit sooner?"

She smiled at Brittany. She understood that Brittany needed this just as much as she did. She grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. This girl was her best friend… she always would be.

000 0000 000

She vaguely registered the sound of the doorbell as she did her homework. She'd texted Santana numerous times to see if she was okay. With no answer, still, she opted to try again in the morning, after Santana had time to cool off. Her father knocked on her door quietly, taking her away from her random essay on some sonnet.

"Ray, Santana is downstairs and she is asking to speak with you." He rubbed his head and ducked into her room, sitting down beside her.

"She looks pretty upset, but we are going to trust that this isn't some ploy to get alone time. Go get your girl, and be back home by ten. And don't make me come looking for you."

She stared at him momentarily, rushing to envelope him in a hug before heading downstairs. She saw Santana, standing by the door with her hands in her pockets. She was wearing a leather jacket and sweats, her hair was slicked back into a wavy ponytail, and her face was clear of makeup. She almost looked like she had been crying.

"Your pop said you're allowed out for a while…can we talk?"

She immediately felt the tension. She didn't know where the conversation would lead to. But she knew it was something serious; she knew something was wrong. She nodded quietly and grabbed her keys. She followed her to her car and waited silently as they drove through the quiet streets. Santana parked on a dark street, and killed her engine. She listened to Santana clear her throat a few times before finally speaking.

"Look, I have some things to say…and I just want to get it all out before you comment on any of it. I know how hard it is for you to stay quiet for such a long time, but just let me finish before you interrupt."

Rachel nodded solemnly in consent.

"I'm obviously jealous. Of Bella. I hate that she's around, and I hate that she's trying to play your friend. I don't even get why you need her around—I mean, she's totally disposable, but whatever. And today, you didn't even check to see if I was okay. Not even a text. It kind of hurt."

She wanted to interrupt. She wanted to straighten out the reasons why she hadn't followed, when she didn't call sooner. But she stayed true to her word and remained silent, the accusations bringing tears to her eyes.

"But no matter how much it hurt, I shouldn't have let it cloud my judgment. Rachel—I've been dealing with a lot lately. I've been getting used to being this way, for the first time. I've felt the most normal these last few weeks than I have in forever. But it's been confusing getting used to all these new developments. And I had to make sure my decisions weren't clouded either."

She stopped talking long enough to take a deep breath. She pulled her hand into her own over the center console of her car and she exhaled shakily.

"I slept with Brittany."

The quiet in the car was overwhelming. She stayed true to her word, allowing her to go on before making a sound. She did however; pull her hand away from hers.

"I would like to say that it was a mistake… that it didn't mean anything but that would be a lie."

It was Rachel's turn to take a deep breath. She exhaled angrily and Santana continued, her voice cutting through the tension.

"I've never had any of this, Rachel. I've always had to hide parts of me from everyone. And things are getting serious between us and I needed to make sure I wasn't just overwhelmed with the new possibilities. I told Britt about my…my condition, and she accepted it, just like a best friend should. And—and one thing lead to another and we wound up—"

She'd had enough; she promptly unbuckled her safety belt and flew from the car. It was brisk outside, but the walk back to her house wouldn't be too long. She heard the car door slam and the quick footsteps catching up to her.

"Rachel let me finish!"

She whirled on her heel, turning to Santana in a fury.

"Are you serious right now? You really expected me to just sit quietly and listen to your recount of sexual intercourse with Brittany? Santana, you didn't have anything to be jealous of with Bella. You should have trusted **me** enough to know that nothing was going on. How stupid was I? I trusted you with so many things! My forgiveness, my virginity, my commitment! I'm not going to get this thrown in my face. I believed you when you told me there was nothing to worry about with Brittany. I never questioned it!"

Santana scoffed.

"Just let me finish, _please_?"

There was rawness in Santana's voice that made her pause. There was a pleading desperation in her features, she took a step away from her, and waited for her to continue.

"I needed to know, Rachel. I needed to know if I was thinking with my dick. I was full of doubts, full of unanswerable questions. I didn't know if you liked me for all the wrong reasons. I kept asking myself if I went through with the surgery, would you still be as committed to us as you are now. I started second guessing my decision to not go through with it. I couldn't let my confusion lead my decisions, Rachel. And…being with Brittany that way cleared a lot of things up. I- I love you Rachel. I love you like I never loved anybody before. And admitting that to myself made me realize how I can grow to live with being who I am this way. With you."

She started reaching out to her, before whispering into the wind,

"Say that you want that too… Say that you love me back?"

Rachel took another step back, shaking her head against her questions.

"That's not going to just make everything okay Santana. You don't get to pull that card with me. I might not be like you… but I have the same doubts, the same fears. You don't get to tell me you love me and make everything you've done wrong disappear. You know I would have stood by any decision you made. I told you I wanted you and I've done nothing that negates that fact. I didn't come after you today because it would have exposed our relationship. I was adhering to your rules about keeping our business private. And maybe had you talked to me about your fears, I could have thwarted them. And for the record, Bella never had anything on you. And I find it deplorable that you believe that I would actually forgive you for making me a consolation prize, Santana."

Santana tried to grab at her retreating elbow, but she promptly shook her hand off and continued to walk.

"So that's it? You weren't a consolation prize! You were my first choice! I just—I had to make sure it wasn't just because we've been having sex, Rachel. When it happened, I compared. I compared how it was when we are together and how it was with Brittany. It was just sex with Brittany, Rachel! You have to believe me. The feelings I get when I'm with you—they mean something. And I was so afraid that I was feeling that way because it was the first time I got to feel that way with someone else. I want to be able to get through this."

She stopped walking, her eyes watering as she took a shuddering breath.

"You lost that chance, Santana. I won't tolerate being an afterthought. I can't overlook these indiscretions. I don't even know if I'll be able to forgive you. Maybe in time…but not- not right now."

"You have to understand, Rachel… I had to make _sure_… I had to know for sure."

Rachel shook her head and started the walk back to her house.

"At least let me drop you off home, Rachel."

She kept walking. She heard Santana retreat, and listened as her car slowly trailed her all the way home.

000 0000 000

A/N: What's teenage love without a little break up to make up? Short update, hopefully you guys are still on the same page with me. . The next few chapters are going to be all full of angst and drama, but you should expect as much from me. Pezberry may take a detour, but they'll land together by the end.

Please review


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: I was hesitating finishing this up last night. Because I was blocked and it was getting gruesome for me to sit still and get down to business. However, someone emailed me this awesomely sweet thing, and I thought I'd get to work.

So… this is a prompt sent in from a reader:

_**We find out that the real reason Santana got that boob job; she's intersexed. She's been hiding it well for her entire life…until Rachel Berry finds out. Romance, angst, smut and identity crisis ensue. Hoping for a happy ending. Cookies if it's 20 chapters or more. Cupcakes for Finn bashing and/or a Brittana moment. **_

_** Oh… you did that already—so how about an update?**_

So thank this anon for giving me some fuel after writing, editing, scrapping and rewriting this chapter.

There is a lot of… dialogue this chapter. I hope the wait was worth it.

Please read and review.

Chapter 21

Usually, when she needed to cry, she would seek out Brittany. When she wanted to sob and choke on her best friend's shoulder, Brittany would be there, rocking her and kissing her forehead and stroking her back. It used to be times when Puck was being a jerk. It used to be when a boy she liked used her. She couldn't go to Brittany this time, and look her guilt in the face. She didn't have anyone else really; to talk to. She needed to talk to her father. But her father was at work and she wouldn't see him until the next afternoon. She made sure Rachel had made it safely inside before screeching off. She made two rounds around the neighborhood before stopping at the petite house on the corner of the quaint block. She'd only been there a few times in the past. She turned her ignition off, and unbuckled her seat belt. She could argue that it was late, that she'd probably be intruding. But she got out of her car anyway and made her way up the cobblestone walkway.

She held the doorbell down and released the biggest breath she could muster. She knew she should turn around, that this wasn't such a good idea. But the promise of having someone to listen to her outweighed the feeling she had to turn back. She waited for a few seconds, switching the weight on the balls of her feet, before turning on her heel and heading back to the car.

"_**Santana**_, is that you?"

She hadn't even heard the door open.

"Hey… I know it's late, but I… I just, I needed to talk to someone and… well, you were the first person that came to mind."

"Well, it's been a few weeks. I've missed you in my office. Only a little bit, though."

She smiled.

"Don't be such a bitch, Marian. Can I come in?"

"That's my Santana… come in, I won't charge you for this session."

She laughed out loud and followed the older woman to her library. She sat down on the couch, and watched as Marian took a seat behind her desk.

"Nuh-uh. I don't need a therapist. I just need… an unbiased friend… to talk to, to listen."

Marian looked at Santana and tilted her head, standing up to come take a seat next to her.

"Well, I've known you your entire life, Santana. I'll be a bit biased. But out with it."

She took a deep breath, and wiped her sweaty palms on the fabric of her sweatpants.

"Well, I've been grappling with my identity. It's lead me to some poor decisions. And now I'm up shits creek without a paddle."

Marian crossed her legs, her bare feet mocking her serious facial expression.

"Well what parts of your identity is being put to question, Santana?"

She took another breath, this one shakier and longer than the previous. Marian raised her eyebrows in question.

"I've been thinking about my intersexuality. How changing my outer appearance will affect me. I'm scared to get the surgery. But I'm terrified of opening myself up to ridicule for not getting it and keeping both."

Marian bent her arm on the back of the couch, and settled her temple on her fisted hand.

"And? What conclusions have you come to?"

She sat up and leaned her elbows on her knees. She looked over at Marian, and slowly faced forward again.

"I've been feeling differently, lately. Like, I've been thinking about what it will be like keeping both. If I want to … 'come out' to everyone ya know? There aren't that many people out there like me. It's rare that I'll find someone who understands… I feel so **alone**. I feel like it's either _**this**_ or _**that**_. I'm not a boy and I'm not gay, but I'm not a girl—but I'm not straight. I'm not bisexual; I'm like omnisexual. I'm both and everything is so confusing. I feel like this freak that gets to watch all the other kids be normal."

Marian put her hand to her chin, nodding her head before speaking.

"MMmmhmmm go on."

Santana looked down at her fingernails, holding her hands out and surveying her next words.

"Look, I just don't know what I want to be anymore. I feel so… excluded. I feel like if someone divided me in half I'd be two great people separately. But it's so confusing inside my head with both people together. I'm like this big question mark; a jumbled mess. Does that make any sense?"

Marian nodded.

"It's what happens when you're discovering things about yourself. It's what is normal about you. You are growing with all these… extra parts. And if you stop worrying about gender, and appearances, you'd evolve and find a sense of self; jumbled mess and all. Do you want to get the surgery? Would you be cutting off a big part of yourself that you've discovered you might want to keep? What are the benefits of getting the surgery? Are you missing out on the normal life you've always envisioned for yourself?"

She stood up. Marian was asking her too many questions. She began walking around the small library, fingering the spines of medical journals and psychology reference texts. She turned to face the doctor before speaking.

"Aren't you supposed to be giving me answers? "

Marian smirked.

"I'm just a friend, remember? I'm supposed to be helping you see the things you may have missed upon your initial reflection. Continue, Santana."

She continued her round of the room, coming to a well-polished globe set up next to a small display of plaques.

"It's like… until a little while ago, my extra parts didn't really function. I didn't really get a chance to experience what so many other kids my age are going through. Then all of a sudden, I'm attracted to someone, sexually. I get this big glimpse into the other spectrum, ya know? And now that I've experienced what it's like to be with someone, I'm starting to realize that being intersexed is a part of my sexual identity. And now, I have this huge fear that if I go through with the surgery, and … the healing doesn't go well—I could lose out on intimacy, on that connection; I could miss out on making love."

Marian smiled this crazy smile at her.

"So you're in love…"

Santana walked to Marian's desk and sat down; taking a picture that was framed on her desk. It was her and Dr. Jennings, at the formal opening of their private practice. They were standing close, both of them beaming over the cut ribbon. They were young. It was at least fifteen years ago.

"Are you and Dr. J. in love?"

Marian ducked her head.

"We were once. Why does that matter?"

She shrugged and put the picture down.

"My parents moved to Lima because it was close to your practice. They said you guys were supposed to get married. What happened?"

Marian tucked her hair behind her ear and bashfully smiled.

"Sometimes… it just doesn't work out. Sometimes people move on… and they change. The bond is still there… but the journey is over. Are _**you**_ in love, Santana?"

"I've been… dating someone. For about two months. And things have gotten… serious—"

Marian put her hand up, her finger halting her midsentence.

"Why is it that I'm just hearing this from you?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Don't act like she didn't tell you. She still has her sessions with you and I know she's gushing; Rachel can never shut up."

Marian smiled warmly at her.

"Dr.-Patient confidentiality. I can neither confirm nor deny. But continue."

Santana blew the air out of her cheeks.

"Well, as I was saying, things have gotten, serious. But… lately. I've been having all the—_feelings_ that go with certain _acts_. And something happened. I did something that hurt her and now I know I can't go back. And I'm not sure she'll forgive me."

"What happened? Will I have to move into the Berry's guestroom Santana? Did you break that girl's heart?"

She leaned back on the chair and crossed her ankles on Marian's desk.

"Well, I started to get so scared that I was making these rash decisions because I was having sex with Rachel. I started incorporating Rachel in everything that will be happening—with me keeping both. But… when I the hazed cleared, I started wondering what would happen if me and Rachel didn't work out. And I got so… nervous. I'd have to find someone who knew…_**what**_ I was. Who accepted it and didn't judge me for it. And that slimmed down so many of my choices. It made finding someone again almost impossible. I'd have to work twice as hard as a normal girl just to find a person who'd love me that way."

"Santana, that's not true. There are plenty of people out there are madly in love with intersexed individuals. I'm sure your chances would be pretty close to a non—"

She rolled her eyes again.

"I don't want to be someone's kink, Marian. Sex has seriously confused so much of what has been going on—"

Marian interrupted.

"Santana… maybe you should try one of the support groups I recommended. If you aren't sure, then it's okay to explore other avenues. It's okay to be hesitant about these kinds of choices. They are **life altering choices**. And it's more okay to just be a teenager."

She rolled her eyes.

"Is it learn a lesson day, doc? Don't feed me all that crap you shove at me in the office, I don't need a pamphlet."

She stood up and made her way to the file cabinet, fingering the letters at the top of each drawer.

"Look. I just didn't want to change my original decision because I fell for a girl. I didn't want to be that person who gave up something _**for**_ someone ya know? Like… Rachel wouldn't give up Broadway for me. I don't want to look back and think I made a mistake because I didn't go through with what I've wanted for so long. And on top of everything else… those feelings scared the shit out of me… it fed all of my doubts."

"That's a fairly big struggle, Santana...maybe you should evaluate how you feel about yourself. The confusion probably isn't helping."

She was crying now, silently. She was toying with the handles of the file cabinet.

"When'd you get so smart? Huh doc?" She sniffled. Taking a shaky breath she continued.

"I messed up. I had sex with Brittany and I ruined a really good thing because I wasn't sure of myself. I realized that I don't mind having Rachel around; even when she's annoying and she talks too much, and she wears those stupid clothes—I love her…"

She pulled her hand away from the file cabinet, and let them fall limp at her sides.

"… I had sex with Britt to prove that I wasn't just blinded by the fact that Rachel was the first… the **only**. And afterwards, Britt told me she was gay. Like—lesbian, gay. And I didn't want to be a girl for Britt. All I wanted was Rachel. I could be myself with Rachel. But that throws a wrench in all of my plans. And I just panicked. Being with Brit was worth something. I needed that. But Rachel won't understand that. I was honest and it was brutal and…it just backfired!

Marian was staring at her. She was hiccupping and she knew her eyes were all puffy and she couldn't stop wringing her hands.

"Have you apologized? Have you talked to her? Have you told her any of this? If you feel like it was a mistake, can you go to her and explain things like how you're explaining them to me? What's wrong with being honest? I think the honesty is what will get you through this."

Santana was pushing the lock on the file cabinet back and forth, trying to distract herself from the barrage of questions. She adds a bit of force and it finally clicks open. She stepped away from it and looked at Marian, the tears on her face stinging her skin.

"I get so scared… being honest is so hard. When I'm honest, I usually wind up hurt."

Marian stood up, pulling the girl into her and cradling her. She let her cry for a few more seconds, stroking her hair and rubbing her back.

"That's why love is scary, Santana. You have to be open enough to trust another person not to hurt you. Stop worrying about your surgery. You have a lifetime to make that choice; no one is putting a deadline on when you can be sure. Just… live. People make mistakes every day. And those mistakes can be surpassed."

Santana pulled back from her.

"I hope you know I hate you right now…"

Marian smiled.

"That's just fine, Santana. 

000 0000 000

School the following day was hard. She avoided the handicapped bathroom, and she avoided the two classes they shared together. She spent the majority of her day in the nurse's office. It was a hard, long day. She just wanted to go home, and get in bed, and sulk. She hadn't talked to anyone since last night. She wanted to vent. She wanted to scream about how unfair all of this was. Instead she started thinking. She stayed up late the night before, playing with the charm on the bracelet Santana had given her. She'd trusted her too soon and too fast. She lost sight of the morals she used to strictly abide by. She'd lost her virginity with this girl.

They'd been dating for two full months. And she had never had a clue that something like this could happen. Or that she could be this oblivious. But she knew as soon as she got home the night before, that she may have made a mistake. She had fallen in love. So quickly. Now she felt so betrayed. She felt so devastated. And she could only chastise herself for being so vulnerable. But … Santana had her _**exposed**_. She trusted Santana with every single ounce of her being. And it hurt. But as soon as she walked away from her… she realized that _that_ had hurt more. She closed her eyes tight for a while as she walked home the night before. She stomped away and let her tears drip drop down her face. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to feel. This was unforgivable. _Well, she hadn't decided if that were true yet. _She didn't want to be around the girl for fear she'd dissolve at her feet. But she went to school the next day anyway. She got to school on time, even though her heart was burning a hole in her stomach.

She had one more class to go to.

She went to her locker quickly, checking over her shoulders for Santana… or slushies. She grabbed her books and closed the door, turning directly into a lithe torso.

"Hey Rachel! I need to talk to you."

She walked around the blonde and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I have to get to class, I'm going to be late."

Brittany caught up to her effortlessly, linking her arm in Rachel's and slowing to a stop.

"You've been missing class all day, it's totally cool."

Brittany smiled and started walking, pulling Rachel with her. They took a few turns and ended up in one of the empty lab rooms. Brittany closed the door behind her and straightened her stature.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Brittany, I really don't need this right now, now if you'll excuse me I'd like to get to—"

Brittany stood in front of the door.

"Just hear me out."

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the blonde to speak.

"Rachel… I've known Santana for a long time. She's like my soulmate—"

"Brittany, I—"

Brittany shrunk back, holding her hands up in surrender.

"Just let me say what I have to say."

Brittany cleared her throat.

"San and I are like two halves of a ball of string. If we don't hold each other together… we fall apart. San is my _**best**_ friend. And I love her. But this won't happen again. I didn't mean for you to be all sad and stuff, and… people do unfair things, Rachel. But. They can be forgiven. I'm sorry if I broke you guys up. I didn't mean to. But I had to know if I could have that with San. And now I know she's like… in good hands. Just give her a chance. She'll earn it back."

Brittany stepped to the side and opened the classroom door. Rachel just nodded, and walked out.

She would have to go home, get into bed tonight, and think.

000 0000 000

She was parked in Rachel's driveway by the time she got home. Her fathers' cars weren't there, so she chanced she could catch her when she got out of school that day. It was brisk out, and she could feel the red rushing to her cheeks as she saw her walking up. She leaned off her car, dusting off imaginary dust and falling in stride with the smaller girl as she brushed by her.

"Rachel, wait. I came to talk to you."

Rachel whirled around.

"I just need some space, Santana. I'm really upset and I would rather not speak with you right now for fear of saying something I may regret."

She caught Rachel's hand as she spun on her heel.

"Rachel. Please?"

Rachel deflated, and tugged on her arm.

"Fine, come inside. You have twenty minutes. "

She followed her into the house, and then into the living room. They took off their coats and sat on the long couch in front of the television set.

"Rachel. I know what happened was wrong. I know it violates your trust and it probably makes you feel like shit. I know that me saying that it was just sex is the worst thing I can say… but it's the truth. But the truth is… it won't happen again."

Rachel was sitting completely still. She was looking forward at the television set, trying not to meet her gaze.

"Santana, do you really think it'll be this easy? I trusted you in ways I have never trusted anyone. I gave you something I've been waiting to give to someone special; and now I feel like I made a mistake in giving that to you so soon."

She stopped her.

"What I did doesn't change the fact that what we did together was special. I gave you something special too, Rachel. I let you have a part of me that people who knew me for almost a lifetime never got. It will always mean something to me, and I would never take that back. What happened with Britt shouldn't have—that's totally true. But it did, and I'm being honest with you and I'm doing something I normally don't. I'm talking to you; about my feelings. About why it happened, and why it won't happen again if you give me another chance…"

Rachel was brushing her skirt off, there were tears in her big brown eyes that she was trying to hide.

"I still don't know why you did it…"

She crossed her legs in front of her and cradled her folded hands on her knees.

"I was born the way I am, Rachel. For my entire life I've had to keep secrets about myself from other people. And I get so close to being approved for my surgery, and it's like a part of me just wakes up. And everything is so new, and so overwhelming. I needed to make sure I wasn't feeling this way for you because you were the first person I could be that way with. And I know it sounds stupid, but being with Brittany calmed all of my insecurities about what I have with you. I love Britt. But I'm in love with you. And I was so scared that if I got the surgery, I wouldn't _function_ anymore, and you'd be gone. I didn't know how to feel about how I feel about you. I told you yesterday that I love you. I still do. I know you might not want to forgive me—and that's fine. Just give me another chance, and I'll not mess up."

Rachel stood up and put distance between them. She rounded the couch and stretched her hands along the back.

"I won't forgive you for this right now. What you are doing now, is something you could have done before. I 'm hurting right now, Santana, and all I want is to have you back, the way I had you before this. If… if you still want to be in a relationship with me. Then we have to start over. I want to go on dates, and take it slow and I… I can't trust myself to be physical right now. All I will do is wonder if she was better than I was, if you're thinking of her. If she's touched you where I have, and if you'll always remember what it was like with her. I need to get over this. And we need to learn how to talk to each other. Because I can't deal with you making rash decisions because you internalize all of your fears."

She was nodding her head at the girl. She would take anything she had to give.

"And I would also like for you to get tested for any sexually transmitted diseases. If I decide to be intimate with you again, I don't want to be afraid that I may catch something from your mistake."

She stood up then, and stared at Rachel incredulously.

"That's unnecessary, Britt's not—"

Rachel put her hand up.

"I'm not saying you have to do it now… but we won't be intimate again without knowing."

She shook her head again.

"So does this mean we are together again?"

Rachel bit her lip.

"No. It means that I'm open to dating you. But… technically, I'm single."

She put her hands in her pockets.

"So you can still go around dating other people?"

"Santana if I chose to, I would. But I'm not going to be dating anyone else anytime soon, I'm sure. I don't mind working on us… but. It's going to go slow. And if you can't handle waiting for me… then let me know and I'll move on."

She only nodded.

"Well… is hugging—"

Rachel was across the room before she could finish the sentence. She kissed Rachel's forehead and squeezed her as close as she could to her body.

"_I'm sorry…"_

They stayed like that for a long time afterward.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22:

She woke up slowly. One eye opened, that same eye shut quickly against the bright white of her open bedroom window. She opened her other eye, and coaxed the blinded one back into the blinding reality of her Sunday morning. She arched her back and pointed her toes, she rotated her ankles and next her wrists. She pushed her body upward into a resting position and settled her wriggling, stretching fingers. She rolled her neck and she popped her jaw. Two feet fell onto her floor and padded across carpet and onto the crisp linoleum tiles. She knew it was sometime after ten; but not nearly noon. She turned on her shower and stripped off what little clothes she had on.

Her erection was raging. She'd gotten so acquainted to it over the last month. She dealt with it quickly, and armed herself with soap, and then shampoo. She washed her hair and let it curl beneath her fingertips and quickly lathered, rinsed and repeated the suggested amount of times. She stood under the steady steam pouring from the powerful jets and watched the suds disappear down the drain. She squeezed a copious amount of facial scrub into her hands with her eyes closed, and rubbed her hands together.

The first time her hand grazed over the curve of her chin, she hadn't noticed it. She quickly felt the soap on her face tingle, and she hurriedly washed it from her skin. She stepped out of the shower and pressed a towel to her face. She patted her skin dry and tucked the towel underneath her armpits. She ran her hands across her chin and quickly snapped her eyes to the steamy mirror. She wiped the fog away and scraped her nails over the stubble pushing through.

Upon closer inspection, the dark hair would probably tuft and curl by the time it got long enough. Her first instinct was to grab the Nair from behind the mirror she was glaring into; but her panic propelled her to her bedroom. She dried off quickly and pulled a baggy t-shirt over her head and sweats over her damp legs. Her parents were probably just settling into their after work routine, her father would probably sleeping in a comfortable chair somewhere within the house. She made a beeline to her mother, who was still buzzed from a full night's shift in the kitchen with her tea.

"Mom—what is _this_?"

She pointed her finger to the rough patch of five o'clock shadow. She hadn't realized how hoarse she sounded until she spoke aloud. She cleared her throat as her mother hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head upwards. She grabbed her mug and sipped her tea before 'mmmhmmming' into the quiet kitchen.

"It looks like a goatee. Or maybe just peach fuzz."

She rolled her eyes at her mother's lighthearted tone.

"Yea, well it's on my face. Isn't this like a red flag? I don't do beards."

Her mother put her tea down on the table and squared her shoulders.

"You're going through puberty, you're levels are going to fluctuate. Are you getting hair anywhere else? Any hair on your chest? Is there any on the knuckles of your toes? It's just a bit of hair, Ana. Calm down and shave it off."

She sighed. She didn't feel any different. But she still wanted to check.

"Mom, seriously. I want to go see Dr. J."

Her mother was staring at her, her hands on her hips and her mouth a thin line across her negotiating mind.

"Fine, fine. I'll call him, go get dressed."

They decided to let her father sleep. They drove together to the facility, which was usually closed on Sundays, and followed Dr. J into their normal exam room. There were x-rays and urine and blood collections as usual. And they sat around until he performed the tests in a lab room somewhere down the hall. They were sitting together in Dr. J's office, trying to force time to speed up.

"You can sleep if you want. I'll wake you up; you'll be tired at work."

Her mother patted her hand and smiled at her.

"I've pulled plenty of double shifts, don't worry."

She leaned over and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. She nuzzled there momentarily, playing with her mother's wedding ring.

"What did you want… when you found out you were pregnant? Boy or girl?"

She felt her mother rest her hand against hers, and she could feel the definition of her mother's cheek bones as she smiled into her hair.

"I wanted a healthy human being."

She rolled her eyes and flipped her mother's palm over, crisscrossing aimless patterns over her mother's brown flesh.

"Well… when you found out? Were you disappointed?"

Her mother blew out a lungful of air.

"I was happy you were okay. You had extra… yea, but you were flawless; nothing was lacking and everything was perfect. Me and your father… we'd been trying for so long, Ana. We didn't think we'd be able to have children. And then… you came. You were nothing short of a miracle. The doctors tried to tell us that you were a twin. That maybe you swallowed your brother whole." Her mother laughed out loud. "But… me and your father; we were careful. Every test was performed. I knew what your heartbeat felt like the moment it developed. I walked on eggshells with you in my stomach until the day I walked into the hospital to have you. So…was I disappointed? Never. Was I nervous? Yes, anyone who's never been a parent… they are afraid; just a little. But mostly I was proud. We made you, without help. You're everything special in the both of us. It's flattering really."

She laced her fingers with her mothers, and closed her eyes when her mother began rubbing her thumb.

"What about Dad? How did he take it?"

She'd never really had the courage to ask her parents these questions. She was always afraid of the answers. She was always guilty she would come off unappreciative. Her mother chuckled again.

"Santo… Santo fell in love with you the moment he held you. You didn't cry when you were born. You looked around and you locked onto him and he fell in love. He wouldn't put you down for the first month of your life. He stayed home with you while I finished my nursing degree. He changed your diapers and he saw all your firsts. Every moment was so special to him. He told me that it was like having the best of both worlds. He was so proud of you the first time you used the potty, he had one of the biggest smiles on his face. When you picked out your dress for your birthday… he smiled so big at his beautiful baby girl. Never once was he anything but enamored with you."

She sat up with her mother's hand still linked in hers. And stared her directly in her eyes.

"Do you ever feel like you made the wrong decision…letting me choose? Would things have been different if you'd just picked for me?"

Her mother shook her head in the negative.

"Ana, you're asking all the wrong questions… There is never—was ever—will never be anything wrong with you. Stop doubting yourself—"

She felt her chin shake.

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I think I found the culprit."

000 0000 000

"So, Tina can't be turned. I guess Mike Chang is like crack. She's totally bi, though, if she were single I'd-"

She laughed out loud, pulling her phone away from her mouth slightly before interrupting.

"I'd rather not hear the details, Bella. Is that all you think about? Girls? Honestly?"

"What else is there to think about…" she laughs, "… besides, McKinely is swimming with closeted lesbians. Like that Quinn girl. She's single right? That's a pressed lemon if I ever saw one. Maybe I'll snag that."

She shook her head, picking at her fingernail polish as she lay in her bed.

"I doubt Quinn lets you … snag that. She's not the easiest girl to catch. And besides, even if she is gay I doubt she comes—"

She rolls on her stomach, still inspecting the chipping paint.

"Oh, please, Rachel the way that girl stares at you I doubt no one knows she's gay. She seems too stuck up for me anyway. Speaking of lesbians, how are you and your lady doing? "

She rolls her eyes, even though Bella can't see her and sits up on her bed. It's Sunday, everything in the house is quiet.

"Santana and I are actually doing fine, everything considering. I even think Brittany and I are becoming friends."

There is a shuffle over the phone, and Bella chirps back into the conversation with a chuckle.

"Isn't she friends with everybody? It's been a month… you okay with her being all… chummy with your girl so soon? Do you think anything is going on?"

She shakes her head again, clearing her throat when she realizes Bella can't see her.

"No. We've been working on trust. We made a compromise. She doesn't get upset when I hang out with you, and I don't get upset when she hangs out with Brittany. And… I guess I'm over it. Santana has been open and honest with me, and I guess I understand where she's coming from—"

There is a huff of indignation over the line before Bella cuts you off.

"So that's it? She just gets off easy? Like… it was sex. That's a big deal, Rach."

She stands, walking over to her computer chair and sitting down at her desk.

"Finn would have forgiven me if I'd let him, I think it's fair I give Santana a fair chance. People make mistakes, Bella."

Bella is laughing into the phone so fiercely you have to pause for her giggles to subside.

"Rachel… cheating is never fair… I know- it wasn't cool that I let you do that and you had a boyfriend and everything. And well I tried to do that when you had a girlfriend too—but that's beside the point. Anyway- that was just kissing, Rachel. That's something forgivable. Had we had sex, Finn wouldn't have given you another chance. It's not the same."

She leans backwards in her chair, rolling across the floor while idly fiddling with the drawstrings of her sweatpants.

"I know things about the situation that you never will, Bella. She's proving to me that she deserves my forgiveness. That's all that matters."

"Whatever, Rach. I have to go. Dave wants to hit up the arcade. Gotta win him a teddy bear for his bed. Laters."

She says goodbye and throws her cell phone onto her bed. Conversations with Bella seemed to always go the same way. They'd been on the fast track to reclaiming their friendship. Bella often questioned a lot of her decisions concerning Santana. She couldn't tell if it was because she still had pent up feelings for her, or if she was trying to show her another perspective. But Bella hadn't pursued her in any way other than friendship since the first infraction. Other than Bella and occasionally Brittany, she didn't have anyone to talk to about her girlfriend.

It had been a month since Santana cheated on her. She'd kept her word about taking it slow, and they agreed to become exclusive again the week after they had "The Talk". Santana was being patient, and they were being open with one another. The intimacy they had been sharing since the incident had been wonderful. Even still, thoughts barreled into her mind like freight trains heading straight for her sense of security. Physically, she wouldn't let things escalate past grinding, and Santana had to bite her tongue to keep from pushing the issue. It's not like she didn't miss being with her that way. But it seemed like all of her insecurities would flood into her mind about how Brittany was more experienced, better, or prettier.

Brittany had been trying to get closer to her. It had been unnerving at first; having the blonde constantly shoving Santana's infidelity in her face. But Brittany never had ill intentions toward anyone. And the blonde kept trying to make sure she knew that Santana wasn't on her radar anymore. It was oddly sweet, endearing even; and she figured quickly that she couldn't really stay upset with the dancer. It was confusing, but she was grasping onto her forgiveness and Santana's sincerity.

Lately, Santana had been showing her what love felt like.

She compared it to what it felt like being with Finn. Finn never loved her. He loved how good she made him feel about himself. He never actually apologized to her for his wrongs, and rarely did he actually agree with any stance she ever took. He didn't stand up for her when he should have been her number one supporter. It made her feel stupid for staying with him. For going back to him. He never deserved any of his second chances.

But Santana did.

Santana listened when she talked. And they hardly ever agreed on anything but they talked about it amicably and saw things from each other's point of view. It was this balance push and pull; but still a constant appreciation for the other. It was mutual. Since they hadn't been having sex, they spent all of their time together talking; enjoying each other's company. They cuddled with each other in front of movies and did their homework together. Whenever things got too hot too fast, they'd cool off and talk about how things were going. She'd never had anyone like that before. Someone who wanted to be there without needing to _get_ something from her.

Santana made her heart flutter and her breath hitch. She infuriated her and she enticed her simultaneously. Santana _trusted_ her, and she was always _there_ with a fierce obligation. She knew things about the girl that no one else did. The quiet conversations they had at home in their respective beds had filled in so many blanks she'd had in her head about her girlfriend. It felt like being in a warm blanket and cradled in someone's arms. It felt like home.

She loves Santana. It's the only reason she could ever put effort into making this work. They could get through this. Sometime far from now this could be something they looked back at and it wouldn't sting. She knew that. She hoped it would soon fade as a blemish on their history and propel them into growth.

There is noise from the tree outside her window. She's quickly afraid of it being Jacob Ben Israel again, but long legs peek into her window frame and she stands to help her girlfriend into her bedroom. Santana stands in front of her, brushing off debris that collected from her climbing. She looked distracted as she took off her jacket, sitting on her bed before kicking off her shoes.

"Hey…"

Santana leaned against her headboard, running her fingers through her hair. She pulls her knees up to her chest and rubs her hands together.

"Hi. Haven't heard from you all day… what's going on?"

She looks at her and looks away, clearing her throat before speaking.

"I had to go see Dr. J. today. Something came up… and I um, I had to get some tests done."

Suddenly she's worried. She goes to her bed and sits at Santana's feet, her arm reaching out to grab her cold hands.

"Is, everything okay? It's nothing bad, right?"

She took a deep breath.

"Well. This morning I took a shower and I found some hair… that like shouldn't be there. Kind of freaked out and forced my mom to take me in. He found a growth; on one of my ovaries and I—"

She cups her hands to her mouth. She shakes her head erratically at Santana. Santana pulls her wrists and chuckles at her—

"Calm down, it's not that serious—gosh don't be so dramatic. But like I was saying before you had a coronary—the doc thinks it's a testicle. Or well, like what my testicle would have been had I had I not been on hormones. It's pumping crazy testosterone into my system since I went cold turkey on my medicine. So, I have to decide if I want to go back on it."

She smacks Santana on the shoulder.

"Don't do that! I thought the worst! So where have you been all day then?"

Santana shrugs at her.

"Talking to my parents. If I go back on the hormones, I could basically set up my surgery. If I don't take the hormones, my body goes through a second puberty. I'm still sterile, but the testosterone will make my levels crazy and… it's just a decision I have to make."

She sits up and scoots beside her.

"Oh. Okay."

Santana kisses her, and wraps her arm around her shoulders.

"So... Saturday is Valentine's Day… I was thinking I could take you somewhere special and maybe—"

"Who says you get to decide what we do… what if I have something planned?"

Santana chuckles and her eyebrows stretch up to her hairline.

"Oh? Like what, Rachel?"

She smiles, toying with the bracelet on her wrist, the one she seems to always wear now.

"Something…. You'll see."

Santana pulls away from her, rubbing her chin as she thinks about something quietly.

"We'll do both."

She smiles at Santana, tugging her shirt to bring her closer to her. She kisses her, the first she's had since last she saw her. She hadn't heard her father come into her bedroom. She pulls away when she hears her Daddy's voice.

"Santana… next time use the door. You girls have until ten, then you head home. Are you staying for dinner, Santana?"

Santana nods.

"Yes, sir."

He looks between the both of you before shaking his head, leaving the door open behind him as he tells you to wash up before coming downstairs. They lay back on the bed and she snuggles into the crook of Santana's neck. She knows that one day she'll look back and the only thing she'll be able to remember is the feeling she felt at that moment.

She kisses her, and rests her head on Santana's chest until her Daddy calls them down for supper.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: When I started this fic over a year ago, it was extremely hard to find a intersexuality (or girl!peen as people refer to it now) fic. It was something rarely found in glee fanfiction. When I set to writing this... I hadn't expected to gain so many followers. I hadn't expected it to garner positive reception and I didn't think this fic would help create a fanbase. Stealing Sunshine is my baby. It was my first serious attempt at writing something well rounded and original, something I hadn't seen before taken seriously. **

**That being said, I apologize for the wait. A lot of people have been looking forward to an update. I would never walk away from this fic, just because it means so much to me. But, the more I write, the more I realize that I need for things to be written how I see them- by my standards. This chapter wasn't up to par with where I wanted it to be. It's been written and rewritten, tweaked and replotted; it's been scrapped and restarted. Because no matter what I wrote... it wasn't good enough for me. And although I'm anal and nit picky, I have finally produced something that I feel okay enough with to share. **

**To all of you who enjoy reading this, to everyone that favorited or followed, to those of you who found my tumblr and sent me kind words of encouragement, and especially to those of you who have taken the time out to actually review- Thank You. Each review, follow or like has helped push me further to my goal of finishing this fic. **

**With that being said, the pressure is mounting. I am very close to the end, and I really want things to go over smoothly. There are only three chapters left of this fic. I am going to be writing a sequel, which I've decided to split from this fic. The sequel will be entitled "Braving Thunderstorms", and it deals with what happens in the aftermath of Stealing Sunshine. I am so happy that you guys have stayed with me along the ride, and I hope to see many of you continue to do so. I hope that this fic continues to be taken seriously, as was my original intent, and I hope that when it's over, we can all agree that it was a great ride. Thank you all for sticking with me. **

**Also… I apologize in advance for the disgusting amount of sap in this chapter… but the end is near and so is the angst. So, here is some fluff and some smut and some foreshadowing… what comes next is a doozy. This chapter is dedicated to Lauren, my beta. For talking me out of deleting my progress too many times to count. For letting me bounce around ideas, and for being honest with me about my choices. Without her, this would have been picked over for forever. So for Lauren: **

**Chapter 23**

_She hates waking up in dreams. Dropping into slumber so aware that what she is seeing isn't real. She knew that this wasn't real, because the light coming through her window was too bright, a luminescent grey in the colorless flow of her shaded bedroom. She couldn't tell what type of dream this was. There was an air around her that she couldn't place. She wasn't afraid; this wasn't a nightmare. She just…existed here, for now. She pulled back her charcoal sheets, and let her feet touch the ash carpet. _

_Something was __**off**__. _

_She felt…different. She twirled quickly around the room, making sure she was alone. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was there that hadn't been at another time. She reached for the door—her hand pausing mid motion, the doorknob that used to be there dramatically gone; smooth paint and untouched wood stared back at her. __**This was just a dream, no need to panic**__. She would wake up soon, and hopefully it wouldn't feel like forever until she did. She let her hand fall back to her side. She walked over to her window, and she let her hand drift into the glowing dew emitting from wherever outside was. She watched her hand disappear, and pulled it in when she could feel nothing but fog. She guessed she was stuck here, in her bedroom. _

_She walked over to her closet; glad that the handle was still attached as she pulled it open. The hangers inside were bare, all of her bins empty on the floor and shelves above her. At that moment, she realized she was nude. Nude with nothing to wear. She looked down. And she discovered what was missing. She moved quickly in front of the mirror hung on her open closet door and she cupped herself. What had been there when she fell asleep wasn't now. She moved her hand from the silky flesh and she admired herself in the mirror. She had a vagina. That, and nothing else. She explored herself experimentally, trying to make sense of her seemingly new body. She searched until she found every fold of skin, she touched and pulled and rubbed the skin between her fingertips. It felt like skin. __**Just skin**__. But…but it looked so beautiful to her; __**so normal**__. She moved a chair in front of the mirror and she uncovered every part of herself. Santana… the girl; only a girl. She had to breathe. She was losing grip with her surroundings, trying to hold on to this dream… trying not to slip into the obscurity she knew was wakefulness. _

_She closed her eyes, and she inhaled. _

_When she opened them again, she was different. She was back to what she was before. She touched herself, somewhat sad at the memory of what she could have been. She stood from the chair she'd been sitting in, and she looked away from her mirror. A girl. She could be a girl. But that girl in the mirror… what she had was just skin. She had a pretty package with no feeling, an anatomically correct doll. She stood in front of her mirror. She palmed her breasts in her hand, and she let the other fall to her penis. She gripped it; she __**felt **__it. This was what she was. It was what she would always be. She turned away from the mirror, torn between the two people she saw in her reflection. Her closet was full. There were dresses on her hangers, and jeans folded in the bins on the bottom and top shelf. Nothing was there that hadn't been there before. _

_She could be a girl. She would. She always had been. _

She woke up tense, her body coiled tight as she sprung awake in her bed with the appearance of the sun. She'd been waiting for today, impatiently. Morning was colder than usual; today, it confined her to her bed. She wiped her dreams from her eyes. She hid from the grey peeking through her open window because it was too early to be awake; and she tucked herself under her blankets when the breeze blew in. At least the day was here; at least the wait was over. At least she wasn't dreaming. Today was the day. She was ready… but she was edgy.

She pulled herself from her brisk sheets and walked to her window to shut it. She showered and shaved quickly (because she has to do that regularly now), and washed away the grime from her run the night before. She made her way to the kitchen. Anxiety ate her appetite when she made herself breakfast and she lounged in sweats for the majority of the morning.

Her parents were gone. They left the night before, happy to have the weekend to themselves off doing things parents do in lieu of children. She let the day pass with impatience, finding nothing to occupy the time that seemed to stretch on to oblivion. Four o'clock came just when she was convinced that she'd lost her mind. She showered again, making work of cleaning every inch of yesterday from her body. Today was the day; Valentine's Day. It shouldn't have felt like such a big deal. But it was their first together; she felt like today had to be important. She needed to show Rachel how committed she was to her, to their relationship. And it was the day she was going to tell Rachel her surgery decision. She was excited, she was worried, and she was terrified.

She wore slacks. Grey, thick slacks that would keep her warm without tights. She wore a red fitted sweater, and her winter trench coat. She curled her hair and shook the curls loose before tugging on a hat. She grabbed Rachel's gift and tucked it in her inside coat pocket, and then she made her way to her car. She had big plans today. Plans she made in spite of the holiday; plans that only happened to coincide with Valentine's Day. Plans she couldn't really believe she was going through with. She hated that she was nervous; but no other emotion seemed fitting. There were a lot of solid, bold decisions she would be making today- she was ready... but still, she was nervous. It was the perfect day for grand gestures, and it was time for Rachel to see how serious she was about her; about them.

She knew that Rachel didn't expect a traditional Valentine's Day. It made her feel like she didn't have a standard to live up to. She wasn't the type to smother Rachel with cheesy gifts and chocolates; she wasn't the type to expect something in return for a single day of acknowledgement and good behavior. She has been showing Rachel how much she loves her every day since she slept with Brittany. She knew how much she cared for the girl the moment she saw the anger and disappointment in her eyes. She never wanted for Rachel to feel that way again... especially because of something she did.

That's why today wasn't important because it was Valentine's Day. The holiday meant nothing to her. It was important because she wanted Rachel to know how ready she was. She wanted to never see that look in Rachel's eyes again. Today was important because she had the chance to set the standard, to wipe the slate clean of everyone else's expectations and indiscretions. Today was the day that would change everything.

She left the house quarter to six, and she headed to the overcrowded flower shop. She bought Rachel a tulip, because roses were overrated, and she made her way to Rachel's with a smile on her face.

Today was the day.

000 0000 00

She hates secrets. She hates them because she can't stop thinking about them once someone tells her one. She hates _keeping_ secrets. It's hard to keep something inside when she's bursting at the seams with the burden of knowing something no one else does. Information she shouldn't have seems to ebb and ache inside her until she blurts it out, a rush of too many words too fast; usually to the wrong audience. Needless to say, she rarely has any secrets of her own.

It's hard not interacting with Santana at school. It's getting harder keeping _**them**_ a secret. Often, she has to stop herself from greeting her in the hallways, or sitting with her at lunch. Sometimes she lets her feet move her to the field after school to watch her at Cheerios practice. She turns back when she realizes that she can't sit in the bleachers and be Santana's cheerleader. She is starting to hate the handicapable bathroom they meet in, or the empty classrooms they use to steal kisses without scrutiny. It used to be thrilling; running around with her. It used to be exhilarating that they could keep such a secret from people. It isn't anymore. Especially when she remembers that staying a secret was her idea in the first place.

She's usually the secret in her relationships. Either the secret or the fool. But things were different with Santana. What she had with Santana was **real**. What they had **together **was... _special_. She'd gotten to know so much about Santana in the short time they'd been dating. Santana wasn't a girl struggling with her sexuality. She was a girl fighting with her intersexuality. She understood why Santana didn't want anyone to know about her condition. Santana didn't want people to judge her and talk about her behind her back. She didn't want people to make assumptions over something she had no control over. She respects Santana's decision to keep it quiet.

That reason alone has been keeping her from forcing the next step. Because they were still a secret; because she'd been the one to make it that way at first. She didn't want to make Santana choose, even though it was getting harder to stay under everyone else's radar. Even though she was bursting at the seams with her secret; with her joy. She didn't want to ruin the stability Santana had maintained through everything. She hated keeping secrets, especially this one... but she kept it nonetheless.

It had been hard keeping her secret from Santana too- about what they were doing tonight. She'd been bubbling on the brim of telling ever since they'd agreed on doing both of their plans. Saturday was here now, and she was sitting beside Santana quietly, thinking about everything that lead up to this moment; all the things that brought them here.

"Rachel...we're here."

She'd zoned out. She couldn't look out of the window, the blindfold Santana had her wearing was obstructing her view. Santana hadn't spoken too much during the drive, and in an absence of conversation and sight her mind had drifted off.

When she tugged down the blindfold, they were parked outside of the ice skating rink. If it were any other day, ice skating wouldn't be such a big deal. They'd been here a few times since her birthday; since she received Santana's virginity. The rink was on the edge of town, and aside from hockey games and seasonal rentals, most people didn't frequent the place. It was somewhere they could usually be themselves without worrying about people asking too many questions. But tonight was different. Tonight was the Couple's skate. Almost everyone at McKinely would be there; everyone would see them there **together**. She was ecstatic, and happy tears sprang instantly to her eyes when she looked over at her squirming girlfriend- who was gripping the steering wheel in anticipation of her reaction.

"This is okay...right?"

Santana looked nervous. Like she was revving up for a big competition, and she knew that she could very well lose. She pulled Santana's hand away from the steering wheel and laced their fingers together. She nodded. Of course it was okay. There were happy tears in her eyes. She knew that this wasn't easy for Santana. She really did. But if Santana wasn't ready for this...she wouldn't have brought them here.

"Okay, then. Let's skate."

000 0000 000

He brought Quinn to the couples skate. So what if she was dating that chump Sam, he didn't have to do much convincing to get her on his arm. Yea, she cheated—but so what, he was back on top, and that's all that mattered. He felt like Finn Hudson again. Sam had dislocated his shoulder, and he was quarterback again and everything should have been great. But it wasn't. Something still bothered him. He hadn't told anyone about Rachel and Santana. He had to _**think**_ about it first. Something about them being together… it just made him angry. What he hated most was that it was Santana. Rachel liking girls used to be kind of hot, back when Rachel was _his_ girl and that kind of stuff would only ever happen in his fantasies. But now it just really pissed him off.

But he had Quinn now, so it shouldn't have mattered. He wasn't just a glee loser anymore… and it should be a lot easier to forget about Rachel. _But it wasn't._ He thought he would have longer to get over it… but he was wrong about that too. Rachel and Santana had come, as a couple, to ice skate. He could feel the tips of his ears burning as he heard the whispers, everyone around him stopping to make a scene about the newest couple at McKinely high. And Rachel and Santana were rubbing it in, acting like no one was staring; like this wasn't the biggest joke he'd ever seen. They were just holding hands and whispering between themselves, lacing up their stupid skates and messing up his entire date.

He tries to play it cool. He pulls Quinn a little closer and he tries his best to act surprised. Rachel spots New Directions and they glide over hand and hand. It makes him sick in that "he's going to barf but he's so disgusted that he totally _can't_" kind of way. Everyone is crowded around the rails. Artie and his date were sipping hot chocolate on the "safe", carpeted part of the rink. He and Quinn, Mercedes and Kurt and Mike and Tina were standing in front of them. No one was skating yet; most of the kids there were just standing on their blades, talking.

He can't skate. He was as uncoordinated at it as he was at dancing, but he realized that he did a great job at balancing on the blades if he wasn't moving. He'd only come because most of McKinely would be there. He was the quarterback, and that made him like the figure head at the school or something... so he showed up, and with the prettiest girl on his arm. But Santana and Rachel shouldn't have been there. They were committing social suicide, and that should have made him feel better about what was happening, but he still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut when they finally skated up to the group.

"Oh hell to the no! This is Valentine's Day you guys, not April Fools! I mean, Berry's not my friend or anything, but Santana—that's just plain cruel."

Kurt's head swiveled in this weird, gay way (but not in that offensive gay way, because he's never seen anyone's head swivel around like that and he really doesn't think normal dudes can do that), and "mmmhmmm'd" as Tina just pointed at the couple. He's really starting to get angry, but before he can say something to Rachel, Quinn is pulling away from him and snatching Santana a few feet away from the crowd. Rachel is just **there**, standing in front of everyone. It's honestly one of the only times he's ever seen Rachel quiet for longer than a few minutes.

"Have you g-guys been d-d-dating long?"

Tina is standing next to Mike, who doesn't really look like he knows how he should take this.

"It's been a while now. We just didn't want everyone to know until we were ready."

He can hear Quinn off to his left, shouting in a loud whisper about "hobbit hopping" and the social order. She's right— Rachel and Santana dating might totally explode the hierarchy. But as he looks around, he notices that most of the other kids were already finished staring, and a few of them had already started skating. Quinn's loud whisper is getting louder, and she is doing this growling, huffing combo that has him confused. There is an awkward silence between New Directions and Rachel, and everyone standing around the rails is finding an excuse to avoid the topic. He tugs on Rachel's arm without letting go of the rail and he wobbles slightly away from the group so he can talk to her in private. She hesitates only for a minute before looking over to Santana. With a sigh she skates over to him; with so much more skill than he could ever come up with. He tries to stop the anger from coming out with his voice when he speaks.

"Rachel, why are you doing this? I mean, you can be gay or whatever...but Santana? I get that you're experimenting and stuff. And, like, I knew you were desperate after we broke up, but I didn't think you would stoop that low. Are you doing this just to get back at me?"

Rachel rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. He would do the same, but that would involve finding balance without gripping the rail he is standing beside. She shakes her head for a few minutes before setting her face. He _**knows**_ that face. It means that she is about to raise her voice and talk down to him.

"Finn Hudson! How dare you? You have no right to question the validity of my sexuality or my choice in a partner. Just because you still have hurt feelings over what happened between us, you have no right to ridicule my relationship. Am I sore that you went back to Quinn? No. I'm happy that you've moved on. Santana and I are together, and it has nothing to do with you!"

Her voice ends a lot louder than when she began talking, and a few people are turning to look at the commotion. He can't let her get the best of him, especially not when everyone was watching.

"Oh come on, Rachel. Of course this is about me. You made a mistake and now you want me back and you knew because it was Santana that I would notice. Good job, Rachel. Looks like you got my attention. Even though I don't want you back."

She looks angry. You don't understand how she manages to stomp her foot so hard with ice skates on, but she does— and whatever, you're totally not scared.

"I don't know what I ever saw in you, Finn. And I definitely don't want you back. I'm sure I never will. Thanks for letting me know that I made the right choice in Santana. At least she has dignity and class that you will never have."

She goes to turn away and he is pissed. He couldn't have stopped the words from coming out of his mouth if he tried.

"You know what, Rachel? You're dumb to think she even cares about you. She's just using you. She's just a slut who thinks getting into your pants is a game. But hey, it's the only reason I ever dated you in the first place. Maybe Santana will have better luck."

He honestly expected a slap. He expected Rachel to reach up and slap him hard on the cheek. He doesn't expect a punch to the side of his jaw, and he doesn't expect the impact to make him twirl in a full circle on his skates before he falls heavily to the floor. When the world stops spinning, he feels the weight sitting on top of him. He realizes that it's Santana, hitting him repeatedly while cursing in Spanish. She even gets in a few good shots before someone pulls her back, and Quinn is suddenly by his side, trying to help him up without falling herself.

When he finally stands, his nose is bleeding and there is blood gushing down his favorite bubble vest.

"You know what, screw this. Have fun with your lezzy girlfriend!"

Puck hits him this time. He doesn't even know when Puck got there, and the hit hurts worse than when Santana hit him. He reaches out to catch onto something (and yea, Quinn totally just moved out of the way of his flailing limbs, and yea he has to act like it doesn't hurt his feelings) and he skids and slides backwards; sure his eye will probably swell shut.

"Watch who you're talking to, Hudson. Show some respect to these ladies."

He crawls over to where Artie's chair is parked, and he hears the boy snicker before saying something that sounds a lot like "You got served". Quinn skates over to him by the time he manages to loosen his laces, and he tries to ignore the stares of all the kids at the skating rink. He was mad before, about everything that happened and how it happened. But as he grabs his shoes from the front desk, all he can think about is how he's going to get back at that bitch, Santana for ruining his reputation.

000 000 0000

Quinn had been giving her a lecture about how being gay was cool when it was with Brittany, and that she wouldn't allow her to date Rachel "Manhands" Berry. She'd called Quinn on the disrespect, and was two seconds away from pushing Quinn on her ass when she heard Finn yelling at _**her girl**_. She skated away from a gaping Quinn, who scoffed indignantly before following after her. When she caught wind of what he'd actually been saying to Rachel, she saw red. She had always hated _**everything**_ about Finn Hudson, and that feeling had intensified ever since he'd started butting into her business.

Rachel had tugged her to the benches, and they got their shoes and went to the bathroom together. She reassured Rachel that she was fine, but Rachel had insisted on the moment of privacy. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins—finally hitting that douche felt like the greatest thing in the world.

"You shouldn't have hit him, you know. I could have handled it myself."

Rachel is thumbing her bruising knuckles. She is shuffling her weight from heel to heel, and she plays with Santana's fingers one by one. She is sitting on the sink inside the bathroom with Rachel between her legs making sure she didn't hurt herself when she smashed her fist into the side of Finn's face.

"Finnkenstein really tried to play my girl… hads to handle it."

Rachel smiled at her, loving the sap of her false bravado. Rachel cupped her hand over hers and kissed her on the cheek. Santana grew serious.

"Some Valentine's Day huh? We didn't even get to skate."

She looked away, and Rachel's fingers snapped her head straight—pressing her full lips lusciously against hers. She let her eyes close just as it ended, and let the slow smile spread on her face as she opened them again to a smirking Rachel.

"I don't condone violence…but it's nice to see someone stand up for me for once. Without hesitation."

She presses a kiss to her lips again, and she wraps her arms around Rachel's waist.

"I'm… I'm ready for this, Rachel. I'm serious."

Rachel smiled.

"I know you are... are you ready to blow this popsicle stand?"

Rachel reaches a hand out to her and she takes it, hopping off the counter and pulling on her hat. Her part of the date hadn't gone quite according to plan. She had expected some backlash. But tonight, there were no slushy machines in sight and she thought she would make it through at least one skate without being interrupted by a hockey jock or Neanderthal. She had even expected the glee club to call bullshit. But if nothing else came from this night...at least everyone knew now. She and Rachel were officially an _out_ couple. She had made a commitment and she wasn't afraid of what people had to say about it. It felt great, even though she knew to expect hell at school on Monday.

They said their goodbyes to Puck, who'd come with a Cheerio she didn't have a name for. She followed Rachel to the parking lot, and hesitated opening Rachel's door. She took her hand instead, and led her over away from the cars parked on the lot. There was a quiet space right next to the rink, a brown dirty bench that looked way too sketchy to sit down on. They sat anyway, sweeping the tails of their coats under them, hoping that what looked like grime was just actually worn wood. She took a deep breath before reaching for the box in her coat pocket...she was suddenly nervous.

"I gave you your first charm here, at this place. It feels only right that I keep with tradition."

She blows air out of her cheeks. She puts the box in Rachel's hand, and she averts her eyes as Rachel opens it, a bit worried that she may not like it.

"What's it stand for?"

The ribbon is gold. It's small enough to dangle from Rachel's charm bracelet without catching on anything, but it's still big enough to notice. She had a hard time picking this one out, trying not to get talked into anything cheesy like name necklaces and heart pendants. She'd even talked herself out of a pretty gold star- she'd save that for another occasion. This charm was important, and she wanted Rachel to know that every time she saw it.

"I want you to remember... how much you mean to me. Every time you look at it I want you to remember how much I love you."

Rachel's eyes tear up, and she reaches out a hand and puts it on top of hers.

"You mean a lot to me, Rachel. And I know I'm a bitch sometimes, and I get that I do stupid things. I even realize that I don't tell you that enough- how much you mean to me... and I just thought it be nice to have a reminder..."

Rachel stands before she finishes her sentence and she tugs her up. The hug Rachel envelops her in is tight, and they stand in front of the dirty bench for way too long that way.

"Who knew my girlfriend could be so sweet?"

She shrugs, putting on a scowl before answering.

"Tell anyone and I'll murder you."

They laughed, still holding each other loosely in front of the old bench, their knees bending inward and arms wrapped warmly around each other. The DJ inside the rink had decided to crank love songs to the max, and she could hear the slow song wafting through the double doors. Rachel began humming, her voice silky to Santana's ears. She felt her feet moving slowly, side to side, and Rachel rested her head on her shoulder and began whispering the lyrics. She kissed the top of Rachel's head before lacing their fingers together. The song ended and she twirled the shorter girl around and pulled Rachel back to her for a kiss. It was colder out, and Rachel pulled her away from the old bench by the rink and over to her parked car. After arguing momentarily about driving, she pulled out of the parking lot, happy that this part of the date wasn't a complete bust.

She had followed Rachel's directions precisely, and still, she didn't know where they were. The building was made of tan brick, and there were almost no windows in sight. The dome roof was the highest point on the building, and wherever they were, it appeared to be closed. Rachel had gotten out of the car, and walked up to a surly guy sitting in the security booth. Moments later Rachel waved her over, smiling and thanking the man named Hector as they walked past him. There were almost no lights on when they walked in, fluorescent bulbs casting enough light for them to follow the straight path to the end of the hallway and up three flights of stairs. The double doors at the top of the last step read "Observatory" in thick, capital letters, and Rachel pulled a key from her purse before smiling over her shoulder at her to unlock it.

She was clueless, obviously, but she pursed her lips and let Rachel lead her into the sphere shaped theater. There was an elevated stage up front, with a checkered patterned blanket and picnic basket on top of it. Rachel showed her to the blanket before disappearing into a room offset from where she was sitting. Moments later, the dome above her geared to life, and the sconces along the walls dimmed enough for her to see the constellations littered above her like road maps to dreams. Comets darted across the expanse of space, and she admired the depthless stretch of uninterrupted universe.

"I love coming here. Everything seems so small when you watch the stars. Hector lets me in most nights, and I put down a blanket and just...drift off into space."

Rachel sighs contently, opening the picnic basket and taking out Breadstix containers. She sat still, admiring the environment that swallowed the entire room.

"I've never brought anyone here before... do you like it?"

She nodded, breaking a breadstick with her teeth.

"Is the sky real? Or is it like CGI?"

Rachel laughs, pulling out plates and lighting two candles between them. There was no other light now, and the night sky glittered like diamonds over them, the silver speckling their faces.

"Yes it's real. I can point the telescope anywhere I like. But mostly I just watch the stars. If you watch the same ones long enough they start to change. Or sometimes you can see one that flickers out. Other times... you see one that might not have been there before. Some of them shoot across the sky and just get lost. It's...beautiful."

She is staring at Rachel, lost in the moment of awe. Her girlfriend. Her beautiful girlfriend who brought her to a picnic under the stars.

"Is that the reason you like it here?"

She looks at her in the dark, Rachel's intense gaze stares back, a smile quirks her lips.

"Well, for a long time, I didn't have friends. And I only had my dads to talk to and sometimes I needed someone else to listen. And I would come here for the last showing and sit in the back row. I was usually by myself. I would just talk to the sky and hope that someone was listening. It made me feel better..."

Rachel looks down at the plates in front of her, handing one over and staring up above her nostalgically.

"Do you... do you still come here often?"

Rachel shrugs nonchalantly.

"Well... not as much. I have someone who listens now."

There is a smile on her lips at the comment, and she listens to Rachel as she lists the constellations over dinner. They wind up full and on their backs, talking quietly under the night sky.

"If you had a nickname for me, what would it be and why?"

She rolls her eyes.

"I have a lot of nicknames for you already."

"Oh? I have yet to hear any of them-"

"Hobbit, Streisand, Dwarf, Yentle and-"

She counts them off on her fingers, and Rachel slaps her arm playfully.

"You know what I mean, Santana. Like those cute, couple names that everyone has. You know... sweetheart and pookie or honeybunch-"

"Honeybunch? Really?"

Rachel scoffed.

"Well you know what I mean. We don't have any of those."

She shrugs. Rachel was right.

"Yea, we don't. But... you don't get to pick your boo name."

She can see Rachel's brow furrow in confusion.

"A name for your boo... like nicknames have to happen on their own. There should be an entire story behind it or some crap like that. Like a couple's inside joke."

Rachel nods like it makes complete sense and lies flat against the blanket to watch the stars. It gets quiet pretty fast, and Rachel shifts to rest against her head against shoulder- and her arm wraps instantly around her as they settle into a comfortable silence. Rachel pulls away momentarily to rifle through her bag. She pulls out a rectangular shaped package, wrapped in gold paper with a pretty purple ribbon tied around it. Rachel hands it to her and sits up, crossing her legs Indian style in front of her.

"Go on, open it."

She shakes it slightly, frowning when it doesn't shift in the packaging.

"Is this a booklet of your head shots, Rachel? Because if it is-"

"Just open it!"

Rachel is bouncing impatiently in her seat, waiting for Santana to open the gift. She hadn't expected one in return, honestly, so she takes her time. She uncovers it slowly, a cloth ebony cover, gold letters embroidered on thick material- aged yellow paper without lines and a thick purple ink pen, dangling on a string attached to the book. The lettering on the book read "Thoughts". There was a black and purple strap that clasped over a lock, the key hidden between the first and second pages.

"I know it's hard for you to talk to me about your feelings. And I thought, maybe you could write them down… and show me one day. When you're ready."

She feels herself tear up. Emotions weren't her strong suit. Talking about them… it wasn't something she was comfortable with. The gift was modest and thoughtful, and everything she didn't know she wanted. She leaned over to kiss Rachel, and blew out the candles that had burned halfway down the wick since they'd been there. She hugged the girl to her and looked up, wishing on every star in that sky that they could stay there forever.

000 0000 000

The thump that reverberated through the empty house when her back slammed aggressively against the still closing door was extremely loud; and it pulsed through her ear canal like a high frequency pitch…until the vibrations echoed distantly in her eardrums. She doesn't know how Santana managed to slip her key from her coat pocket, nor does she realize how her girlfriend opened the door while they were kissing fervently—consumed by their frantic, desperate movements.

She forgets what she was thinking about when Santana's lips trace her jawline. Santana is too busy peppering wet open mouthed kisses down her neck until she discovers the one spot on her body that makes her hips cant and her knees buckle, and she sucks on it- hard. The moan that trembles from her open mouth is shaky, and she's sure she would start drooling if she let her mouth lay slack.

When she woke up that morning, she hadn't expected the day to turn out this way. She convinced herself that they would avoid the cheesy clichés of the holiday; she even told herself that the only reason they were celebrating at all was because it was the first they would share together. She didn't want the sickeningly expected copulation at the end of a trail of rose petals. She didn't want giant teddy bears, non-vegan friendly chocolates or tacky balloon hearts. She wanted a special night out with her girlfriend, without the pressure of the expected physical intimacy.

When Santana showed up at her house that night, promptly at six thirty, she told herself that they would behave and she wouldn't let the weight of the day force her into any premature decisions. Her fathers left the day before, after she insisted they could leave her alone for the weekend. Santana was leaning lazily against the doorframe, a single tulip cupped daintily in her left hand. She put the flower in a vase set on the foyer table and walked out into the brisk February air. When the night began, what they were doing now wasn't supposed to be in the forecast.

Santana bit down on her neck, and she let her head lull against the door. Santana was lifting her right leg, and she wrapped it around the curve of Santana's waist, pulling her other leg up to follow. There was a thick, swollen, solid bulge grinding into the juncture of her thighs, Santana's grey slacks were tight and straining. She wants to pull off Santana's trench coat, still grinding against the hard girth of Santana's erection. It's hard to think over the feeling of Santana dragging across her clit, and she's instantly aware that she wants this; that she needs it.

"If you want me to stop… tell me to stop now."

She stops breathing. Santana is looking at her, holding her by the bottoms of her thighs against the door she's pressed against. She's looking into her eyes, searching for the one feeling she's currently experiencing. She knew it was hard for Santana, her thickness pressing against the wet patch of underwear beneath her skirt, to say no. She knew it was difficult for Santana to stop, just to give her the chance to call the shots. To make sure she wanted to take this step. She was staring slack jawed at her girlfriend in that moment.

She doesn't nod, or vocalize anything she's thinking. She just closes her eyes and kisses her. If she could force anything she was feeling in that moment into her lips, she's sure she'd be doing what she was doing now, with Santana- the girl she loves. When she broke away, Santana dropped her legs to the floor and pulled off both of their coats. The coats both drop to the floor in heavy thuds, right before Santana disappeared to pull her panties down from under her skirt. By the time she looked down, Santana had pulled a leg over her shoulder and pressed her face into the bend of her thighs.

The feeling of her tongue sliding over all the swollen parts of her sex made the tug in her stomach catch the moan in her throat. _She missed this_. The feeling she got whenever Santana touched her. Their bodies moved together involuntarily. Somehow her fingertips knotted in the hair at the back of Santana's skull and she squeezed as Santana's tongue flicked over her hypersensitive flesh. The car ride home was too much, because it doesn't take much for her to begin screaming and grunting and clenching around Santana's mouth. When she orgasms, she tumbles into Santana's face, and she lets Santana catch her and bring her body flat against the floor.

They lay there together on the foyer floor; kissing each other like it was the best activity in the world. All the fire that had been there moments ago smoldered and they tangled in each other's embrace for a moment—smitten with each other's company.

"Do you… do you sometimes feel like we moved too fast?"

It's out her mouth before she can stop it, but she wonders often about how quickly she fell for the girl lying beside her. Santana shrugs.

"No… It's how I know that I love you. I didn't have control over any of it. I mean… if I had a chance to set the pace and take it slow, it just wouldn't have happened. All this was supposed to happen this way."

She kisses Santana on the mouth. It's a sincere peck that lasts for a few seconds before she lifts herself from the floor. She reaches her hand down to help Santana up, and slowly leads her up the stairs and to her bedroom. She takes off Santana's clothes, slowly. _This feels new_. They hadn't had sex in a month and she couldn't help her hands from shaking as she unbuttoned Santana's pants, letting the thick material pool around her ankles on the floor. Santana pulled her dress slowly over her head, and they met somewhere in the middle for a kiss. Santana was still bulging in her underwear, and she realized quickly that she wanted her, naked on top of her. They did away with what was left, and they lay together on the bed, kissing. It was quiet in the house, and she let her hand drag lazily down Santana's sides—they had all night.

"I have something to tell you…"

She stopped her movements, leaning backwards to see Santana's face.

"I'm… I'm going back on hormones."

_**Oh**__. _A _decision_. She instantly has so many questions. They flood to her head immediately, and she has to stop herself from blurting them all out. Santana is looking at her, searching for some reaction in her eyes. She looks worried. She pushes her questions aside and she leans up to kiss Santana.

"I'll… I'll be right there when you wake up from surgery. I'll bake you cookies and visit you every day until you're released. I'll braid your hair when it's matted from lounging around all day and I'll make sure you have someone to watch cartoons with on the couch."

Santana looks like she just won the lottery.

"I—I'm not getting the surgery I just— I need to go back on my hormones to stop the growth from well… growing. And my levels are just so wacked, these mood swings are no joke and I just… I want to even that out. This testosterone has me doing things that I normally wouldn't. You know… like punching Finn in the face."

_**Oh**__. _She feels like she's passed some test. Like Santana was waiting to see how she'd react. There's only one question left now:

"What made you change your mind?

Santana breathes deeply.

"I've had sixteen years of not knowing how this feels. I went a long time wanting to be a complete person, not realizing that I wasn't incomplete because of the extra parts. I was incomplete because a piece of me felt like it wasn't a _part_ of me. And then, everything just started working and I realized that if I go through with the surgery now, I'd never be able to be this way again… right when I was starting to understand what this felt like. If I want to go through with the surgery later in life… it's still an option. But for right now, I want to see what it's like to be complete… extra parts and all."

She smiles up at Santana, proud at the conclusions she's come to.

"You know that no matter what…I'm here, _right_?"

000 0000 000

She leans down to kiss Rachel.

"I know…"

She whispers it, and she kisses Rachel again. She feels at ease, looking down on the girl she loves. She hated herself for the emotional fluff-fest, but she couldn't help but marvel at the feelings coursing through her veins. _She felt like __**such**__ a girl. _She smiles at that, grinning as she rolls over so that Rachel was sitting on top of her. Her hands immediately find Rachel's hips, fingertips grazing her sides feather lightly—feeling Rachel's goose bumps map out pathways to erogenous zones. Rachel leans down over her, their bodies touching at every expanse of skin. Her mouth constantly moves over Rachel's; until Rachel's mouth tugs away to kiss and nip down the column of her neck, the crooks of her elbows, the spaces behind her knees and then—_right _where she needed her mouth pressed against.

Santana rolls them over until she is on top, returning favors with the tip of her tongue over Rachel's soft skin. She basks in the smells that Rachel emits, the noises of Rachel's moans and tastes of certain places on Rachel's body that she's been craving for a month too long—and she commits it to memory. She'd been _**lost**_ without this feeling. She worships every inch of Rachel's body leisurely. She kisses her ankles and runs her hands over the curve of her hips. She traces Rachel's spine with the bow of her lips, and she drags her tongue over the swell of Rachel's breasts. She lets her hands remember the feeling of what Rachel feels like beneath them, and she lets her fingers dance out noises that she's never heard before from Rachel. She bites her lip when she can't take the slow torture anymore and she pushes inside her with a long groan, her eyes shockingly open and staring deeply into hers.

They rock together, slowly. Deep strokes and counter thrusts shift the bed and the rock out a steady rhythm. Misty sweat sticks them to each other, and they torment themselves; reprieve drawling out in the form of their groans. It's been too long she's been here, with Rachel. She whispers things in Rachel's ear when she feels her grip tighten on her shoulders, Rachel's legs squeezing around her as she pumps—this stroke too agonizingly amazing to keep without shattering. They come together with the other's name a mantra on their tongues. Rachel rolls her over and kisses her slow—they have all night.

Her cell phone woke her up. It was buried in her slacks on the floor beside Rachel's bed, and she had to fumble for a moment to grab them and stop the noise. She listened to the voicemail her mother left, informing her of her parents cancelled reservations. Her father was home sick, and they needed to know where she was. Rachel stirred on the bed, checking her clock before turning the other cheek, getting comfortable in the space Santana had just evacuated. She hadn't expected the weekend to be over so soon. She also didn't feel like being grounded for "breaking the rules". She dialed Brittany's number, wondering which little white lie would suffice.

It rung four times before the click of the other line chimed in her ear. It was early, for a Sunday, and Britt had probably been asleep.

"Britts, I need an alibi, call my mom for me and tell her that I slept over and I'm in the shower or something?"

"Brittany's sleeping."

She didn't recognize the voice. She'd talked to Tiffany on the phone on plenty occasions, and she was almost positive that Brittany hadn't been with the girl the night before. She cleared her throat—

"Who is this?"

It wasn't really any of her business, to be honest. But she was annoyed and she'd called to talk to Brittany and there was nothing that she didn't know about her best friend—

"This is Bella, and Brittany is sleep—should I give her the message?"

Bella knew who this was. The picture that flashed whenever she called the blonde was of her and Lord Tubbington smoking cigars. She needed to know why the girl was over there and what the hell Brittany was thinking.

"You really shouldn't pick up other people's phones…"

Bella's laugh was scratchy, still thick with the sounds of sleep.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't call people at seven a.m. on a Sunday."

_Bitch. _

"Whatever, _Karofsky_. I don't even have to entertain the thought of why you're over Brittany's house. I'm sure you know better."

"Know better than to what, Santana? Last time I checked, I'm not stepping on anybody's toes. And you're right, you don't know what I'm doing over here. And it'll stay that way."

"One word from me and you're done. Brittany will do anything for me. Including getting rid of you. Remember that. And do me a favor, stay away from my leftovers, it's not becoming."

Bella laughs again, this time it's louder, and she hears sounds of Brittany's questioning voice in the background.

"Don't you already have a girlfriend, Santana? Maybe you need to loosen that weave, all those razor blades you keep in there must be getting a bit too close to your scalp."

_Click. _

It instantly pisses her off. She almost throws her cell phone, opting instead to squeeze it as hard in her hand as she can possibly manage without cracking it.

"_Fucking Bitch_."

She barely mutters it, and she turns on her heel to climb back into bed. Rachel had sat up since she'd been on the phone, her face tense with annoyance and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Leftovers? Are you finished peeing on your territory?"

_Shit. _

_End Chapter 23_

I feel like my writing style has changed so much since I started this fic. And I hope this change doesn't make it seem like two different people are writing this…

Please review, I'd love thoughts on this chapter.


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